Leverage? Nope!
by Zee-Zee Magee
Summary: This is the story of Nate being in a bad place. He meets a stranger, wishes he had never been born, and it happens. Now he must discover what life is like when there is no Leverage in the world. Gift for gibbsrossi! T for safety.
1. The Hospital

**A/N:** _This is the fabled gift promised to gibbsrossi when a certain somebody wrote a fic for me that I requested. So, gratitude is the only answer I have. The Revenge Job was excellent and I hope you enjoy this as well. If not, I've got something else up my sleeve you might enjoy. Let me know, enjoy!_

A high pitched whine sounded.

"Clear!" A doctor called.

A body shuffled in the hospital bed but the whining persisted. The doctors and nurses looked down at the white, prone body and tried again.

"Clear!" The doctor in charge of the paddles of life called again.

Everybody stepped away from the body at the order. The doctor placed the paddles on the body and sent a pulse of electricity through it. The whining continued for a few seconds but stopped. The alarms died down. A heart beat started to call again.

Nathan Ford stared at the cause of his misery. The job had gone south. Parker had been shot twice. The doctors were currently working to save her life. Hardison was standing beside the mastermind. His brown eyes were fixated on the petite blonde and the doctor's trying to save her. He was quietly cheering her on from his spot by the window.

"Come on, Parker," kept falling from the hacker's lips like a prayer. Tears were caught in his eyes but he refused to let them go. He just stood at the door with his hand pressed against the glass.

He looked as though he wanted to burst through the glass and take the thief away. Nate quickly grabbed his shoulder in hopes of stopping that from happening. The hacker looked towards him for the first time since this whole thing started. He looked so fearful that it rendered the mastermind speechless for a few seconds.

"She'll be fine," he said lowering his hand as he spoke.

"How do you know?" Hardison demanded harshly. He sounded so small, so weak.

Nate grinned. "It's Parker," he replied. The grin widened at that. It was such a Sophie thing to say.

The flurry of doctors stopped. The thief lay motionless in the bed and the flock of white was exiting her room. The mastermind grabbed the hacker by the shoulders again. He needed to stabilize himself somehow and making certain Hardison didn't leave seemed to be it. The lead doctor approached them with shaking limbs.

"We got her stabilized," he replied. Nate let out a breath of relief at that. "But we're going to have to keep her under observation for a while. It was a leak that caused the episode. We're not sure if we got it or if it was just one of many."

Hardison opened his mouth to say something but the doctor waved him off.

"You can still visit her but be prepared to get out of the way," the doctor explained, "There's still a chance of a relapse. We are only hours out of surgery and usually leaks don't appear that quickly. Let's just count this one as lucky and pray that there is nothing else. As I told you before her injuries were very extensive. We can't know just how much damage was done for certain until twenty-four hours' time."

"Thank you," Hardison nodded at the information.

"We'll tell you if she shows any changes," Nate added for good measure.

The doctor smiled kindly towards them. He started to say something, shook his head and began to walk away.

"No," Nate called, "What were you about to say?"

The doctor stared at him sadly. "I was just about to suggest informing the rest of your family of her state," he said, "We don't want to overwhelm her if we can help it."

Nate swallowed back the suddenly lump in his throat at that painful reminder. Hardison wasn't as subtle. He squeaked and raced into the thief's room. He grabbed the thief's hand and sat in a chair by her side. His hands were shaking but there was no other sign of upset with him.

"We'll, uh, we'll do that doctor," Nate nodded.

The doctor left without any further inquiry. He could tell he said something wrong. Of course, with the hacker's reaction how could he not. Normal people don't squeak at the mention of family. Of course, normal people don't barge into a hospital with a bleeding blonde in their arms either.

_God I need a drink_, Nate thought in frustration. He ruffled his hair and slowly entered the thief's room. He stayed close to the door so he would have a quick exit. He hated the way Hardison stared at him the last time Sam's memory was too much. No, this time he wouldn't be a distraction.

"Where's Eliot?" Hardison growled, his voice penetrating the mastermind's thoughts perfectly.

Nate closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. That was the question he had no idea how to answer. The hitter had disappeared sometime after the thief's surgery was finished. He had a determined look in his eyes and his jaw was firmly set in a square. He looked like he was going somewhere to punch something. But that had been an hour ago right before the thief's sudden relapse and recovery. He wasn't answering his phone. His com had been crushed during the initial battle to steal the thief away. He was gone. He just disappeared when his team needed him most.

"I don't know," Nate replied.

Hardison nodded at that statement. He didn't look as mad as Nate had expected him to be. He was very accepting of the hitter's disappearance.

"He probably went to get Sophie back," he said.

Nate probably gave himself whiplash from that simple statement. He definitely felt worse for wear because of it. Just the thought of what happened to the grifter made his stomach boil. He loosened his tie because he suddenly couldn't breathe. Pink and black spots were appearing in his vision. He found the nearest chair and forced himself into it. Then he placed his head between his knees and drew slow, deep breaths.

The images of the horrid job flashed uninvited before his eyes. He and Sophie were kindly schmoozing the mark when everything happened. A shot rang through the coms and Eliot's growl sounded off louder than usual. A few sounds of flesh on flesh and Hardison's labored breathing later came with the explanation that Parker had been shot and discovered. Nate had the perfect excuse for leaving when the mark pulled out a gun of his own. The bastard pointed it at him and inclined his head towards his bodyguard. The bodyguard wrapped his arms around the grifter and pulled her to her feet. Nate lost his temper, naturally, and threw a punch into the mark. A few punches and a roll later the grifter was being pulled into a black limousine and the hitter was shouting at him to wake up.

"Nate!" Hardison's voice screamed into his thoughts.

The mastermind looked up with the expectation of a punch or the hitter. Instead he just got a few view of the hacker's sad brown eyes. He looked so young in that moment, like Sam. Another son was begging him to take the pain away. How was he supposed to do that?

"It's going to be okay," he said sounding just as unsure as he looked, "right?"

Nate stared at him for another second before his mind caught up with the rest of him. He nodded vigorously and stood to his feet. He daringly moved to the hacker's side and stared him straight in the eyes. He made certain to put as much determination into his voice as possible.

"Right," he said. Then he turned his attention on the thief and took in her appearance. She wasn't as pale as she had been before. That was a good sign, a very good sign.

"I'm going to go see if I can get a hold of that hitter of ours," he declared.

He nodded his head and quickly high-tailed it. Parker and Sam were blending into each other again. The hitter was missing and sending his frazzled nerves through the roof. The grifter wasn't there to calm him down or even tell him she was fine. A phone call and a bottle of the hardest liquor he could grab were in order.


	2. The Switch

The mastermind slammed the empty glass on the bar and quickly asked for another. He was in a bar a few blocks away from the hospital. Well, technically it was one block away but he circled around it three times before he decided to go in. Hardison needed him and he knew it but the pain was too much. He needed a few hours to lose himself before he could help the hacker out.

"A man who drinks like that must have an interesting life."

Nate turned towards the source of the noise and stared. There was an old looking man on his right. He looked like Santa with his long white beard and cherry cheeks. His eyes were happy and a bright blue color. There was a smile on his face and he looked far too interested for the mastermind's taste.

"I'm an alcoholic," Nate shrugged, "I drink for a living."

"Oh really," the man chuckled, "How are you still alive?"

Nate rolled his eyes and tried to come up with the most childish retort he could. "Too stubborn to die," he said.

"I'm sure Ms. Devereaux would agree with you," the man chuckled harder this time around.

Nate's whole body tensed at that one statement. He concentrated on the bartender delivering his drink and took a deep breath. He carefully controlled his emotions and switched to a blank face. He turned towards the man and smiled.

"Who's that?" He asked.

"Ms. Devereaux," the man repeated. That stupid smile was still on his face and he looked genuinely fascinated by the reaction he was getting. Then he sputtered and started shaking his head with a frown on his face. "Oh, you misunderstand me. I mean you no harm, Mr. Ford."

Nate stared at the man and allowed the façade to fail. He allowed his anger and frustration through. Then he carefully glared the man down.

"I'm here to help," the strange man added.

"Yeah," Nate growled, "And who are you?"

"A friend, Mr. Ford," the man replied. He placed his hand on the mastermind's arm and squeezed gently. "You're in need and I'm here to help however you wish."

Nate stared at the man incredulously. He couldn't quite decide if this was a con or just a weird guy too drunk to figure out where he was. But he mentioned Sophie and that was dangerous territory.

"Are you here to offer me some kind of ransom?" Nate asked.

"No, Mr. Ford," the man said, "Like I said before. I'm here to help you. Ms. Devereaux will be fine. Mr. Spencer is taking care of it. He's in for quite a surprise when he gets there too. That grifter of yours is a little spitfire."

Nate jumped to his feet and the whole bar quieted. His fists were in the old man's shirt and ready for danger. The rage of what happened was pulsing through his veins and he had no qualms about taking it out on this guy.

"What do you mean by that?" He demanded shouting as he went, "What the Hell do you mean by that? Tell me now, old man!"

"Relax," the man replied. He raised his arms in surrender and waved the bar patrons away. He just stared his blue eyes into the mastermind's soul and let him see the kind intentions. "I'm not going to harm any member of your team. I'm here to help you see that this is not as bad as it seems."

"Parker's lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound. Hardison is nothing but a shell until she wakes up and that's if she wakes up. Eliot's missing and refuses to let me know where he is so I don't have to worry about him. And my girlfriend has been taken by a mark who likes to use pretty things even if they don't want him! What could be worse?"

The man smiled at the mastermind's answer. "Why do you think this happened?" He asked.

Nate stared at the man in confusion again. He quickly placed the man on the stool and tried to understand the question at large. He was coming up empty.

"Mr. Ford," the man replied, "I was sent here to show you the answer to your question."

"What question?" Nate snarled, "Sent by whom?"

"First," the man said, "Tell me the one thing you wish for most."

"My son," Nate replied readily enough, "but you can't give me him."

The man thought about it for a moment then shook his head. "I can but you have to ask," he explained, "but you have to be willing to accept the consequences and I'm pretty certain that isn't the real question you want answered."

"Go away," Nate begged. He picked up his forgotten glass of beer and drained it in one gulp. He signaled for another and ignored the man staring at him. Then the blue eyes became too much. "What?"

"Today's job ended badly, didn't it?"

Nate rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. Humoring this stranger seemed to be the only thing left to do.

"It was definitely in the bottom five."

The man nodded at that. "Right next to the job where you lost your father, I'm sure," he said, "Then there's that one that started with Ms. Devereaux holding a bomb. Mr. Hardison buried alive shook you up pretty badly. Is Mr. Spencer's run in with the carnival ride on that list?"

"You've really done your homework," Nate scoffed.

"I had to," the man said, "I had to know why you were sitting in a bar when your friend is in a hospital bed."

"I told you I'm an alcoholic," Nate replied.

"Yes," the man chuckled, "You did. But that's just an excuse. Alcoholics run to alcohol to survive. You run to hide."

"How is that not the definition of an alcoholic?" The mastermind laughed.

"You think it's your fault that Parker was shot."

The final gulp of whiskey down the mastermind's throat took a while to go down. His muscles tensed at the man's very good guess. His jaw tightened and his teeth wanted to ground each other into dust. He turned towards the man and waited.

"Of course that's not true but I want to know how you think you could avoid it?"

"I missed something," Nate decided, "I was too busy worrying about the dead kid and the similarities she had with my son. I should have let Sophie take over."

"You think Sophie would have done better under the circumstances?" the man mused.

"She would have listened to Eliot when he warned her to avoid a direct confrontation," the mastermind nodded.

"Ahh," the man nodded, "that. You listened. Why didn't you heed the advice?"

"I listen but I don't care," Nate responded, "Sophie tried to keep my head straight but that shouldn't be her job. She's supposed to only worry about how she's going to get the mark eating out of her hand."

"And what about Mr. Hardison and Parker?" the man asked, "How did you fail them?"

"She got shot didn't she?" Nate rasped, "And Hardison is willing to follow me into the fire even though I've failed him time and time again."

"So you're saying they'd be better off without you?" the man asked softly.

Nate mulled that over for a few moments. There were a lot of truths to what the man said. If it wasn't for him the team would have never been in that kind of danger.

"Yeah," he said, "They would be better off without me. They certainly wouldn't get into as much danger as they do now."

"Are you absolutely certain of that, Mr. Ford?" the man demanded softly, "They seem to be the kind of people to know what's good for them and what's bad. They think you're the best thing to ever happen."

"That's because they don't know any better," Nate replied, "Dammit! Every single one of them had crappy childhoods. Except Eliot… and maybe Sophie. They were all broken when I met them. They only got worse when I got a hold of them. Parker used to know when danger was coming a mile away! Hardison never left the building he used to set up shop! Eliot already had his moment of clarity before he met me! Hell, Sophie would be a better grifter and a lot richer. So Yes, I think they would be better off without me!"

"Is that your wish?" the man asked a devilish grin forming on his lips.

"Is that what you want?" Nate demanded briskly, "Fine! I wish they never met me! No! Let's do one better. I wish I was never born! That way Maggie wouldn't have to deal with the loss of a child or anything."

"If you insist," the man replied. He snapped his fingers and clapped his hands. Nobody in the bar even gave him a second look. They just kept drinking and he just kept that smile on his face. "There. It's done. You've never been born."

"Just like that?" Nate laughed. This was ridiculous. A wish like that could never happen.

"Just like that," the man nodded, "I'm an angel of the Lord and I just granted your wish. Maybe now I'll get my wings."

Nate spit out his drink and stared at the man. He stared at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "And angel of the Lord," he asked.

"Yes," the man nodded, "My name is Reuel. I have granted your wish to earn my wings."

"Are you serious?" Nate asked, "It's a Wonderful Life? That's what you're going with?"

"It's true," Reuel replied, "Just check the hospital. Your friends are no longer there. You were never born."

"So if I were to use my credit card," Nate suggested boldly, "It wouldn't work, right?"

"No, but there's plenty of cash in your wallet," Reuel said, "You still have your license too. I even gave you my platinum card. All you have to do is run it through and you have as much money as you need."

"For what?" Nate demanded irritably.

"To see what they've gained since they never had you," Reuel smiled demonically towards him, "Check the hospital if you don't believe me."

Nate stared at the man for a few minutes and decided to see how far this went. He paid the bartender, amazed by the amount of cash in his wallet. Then he grabbed Reuel's arm and headed for the theif's room.

When they got there, the room was empty. Nate panicked and rushed towards the nurse's desk. She looked confused and didn't understand who he was.

"Alice Wh-Baker!" He corrected softly, "Alice Baker. She came in here with a bullet to the chest."

The nurse nodded at the statement and quickly clicked away. She stared at the screen a few seconds then shook her head.

"There's no Alice Baker here, sir," she said.

"What?" Nate demanded frantically, "No! We brought her here just a few hours ago. Check again!"

The nurse looked annoyed but obeyed. She shook her head and took notice of his panicking exterior.

"Maybe she was transferred to another hospital," she suggested softly, "I can check."

"Please," Nate smiled in relief.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Maybe you have the wrong hospital."

"Yeah," Nate nodded, "maybe."

Reuel was standing there with a bright smile on his face. Well, a four year old girl was telling him what she wanted for Christmas. He was kindly taking note and making certain to add it to the list. Then he took note of the fact that Nate had returned. He bid the girl good-bye and looked expectantly towards his charge.

"Well?" he asked.

"She's gone," Nate replied, "Parker's gone."

"I told you," Reuel smiled, "You were never born. Your team was never made. She was never shot. All of your worries are gone."

"Can I see them?" Nate asked. He wanted to see how elaborate this con was. Fooling the nurse and changing the hospital was easy. How far did this con go, was the question.

"Of course you can," Reuel said, "Who would you like to start with. Mr. Hardison might be a bit of a shock but Mr. Spencer will be easy. Parker's always been difficult. Ms. Devereaux no longer exists-"

"What do you mean Sophie doesn't exist?" Nate snarled.

Reuel rolled his eyes. "Relax," he said, "I meant the name doesn't exist. You weren't there to inspire her to create it. The person still exists. She's just… different."

Nate grabbed the man by his collar and growled.

"That's a pretty good Eliot Spencer impersonation," Reuel said. His voice was only slightly nervous. He looked confidant that his face would not be caved in by the end of this.

"Listen," Nate rasped, "I don't care what kind of con you're trying to pull off. I want to know what you've done with my team and I want to know right now!"

"Find Mr. Spencer and you'll understand everything," he said.

"Fine," Nate sighed, "Let's go."

"I've got enough magic," Reuel explained, "We'll take the fast way."


	3. Eliot Spencer

Pop!

"Welcome to Eliot Spencer's world," Reuel musically informed his guest.

The mastermind paid no attention to a word he said. Instead he was too busy trying to keep himself from coughing out his lungs. His chest hurt and every muscle ached. His bullet scars were tingling with the sensation of the movement. His scraggly form was hunched over while he tried to make the black and purple spots disappear.

"Ooh," Reuel exclaimed, "Right. They told me that tended to happen to humans during their first disbursement."

Nate stared at the angel in horror and asked, "Told you?"

"Well obviously I haven't done this before if I haven't earned my wings yet," Reuel sighed.

Nate rolled his eyes at that.

"Of course," he said. Then he straightened his back and took in the view. "Where are we?"

They were in some desolate place in the middle of nowhere. There was bright orange-red sand all around so it looked like a desert. There was a small palm tree growing by a giant hut. A small pond was on the other side of the hut. It was surrounded by bigger palm trees and other exotic plants. The air was hot and humid instead of the expected dry. It was an oasis.

"Where are we?" Nate repeated, breathless from the quick temperature change.

"We are in Erenhot, East Govi," Reuel explained, "Mongolia."

"The Gobi Desert," Nate nodded. It made sense considering the surrounding temperature and everything. "But why are we here?"

"Eliot Spencer lives here," Reuel shrugged, "He's completely isolated himself from the rest of the world. You did that."

"How did I do that?" Nate barked towards the man.

Reuel just gave him a look. "You wished you were never born," he reminded, "Now your best friend is paying the price."

Before the mastermind could even dare to say anything, a whistle started to blow. It started soft and got louder and stronger as it approached the door. A man with long flowing hair and a hat exited from the door. He ignored his guests and just kept going through the motions. He went to his little well and pumped some water into a watering can. Then he immediately set to work watering each and every one of his wonderful plants. He whistled all the while and didn't care who heard him.

"You should check up on him," Reuel suggested softly, "Maybe you'll find the answers you've been looking for."

Nate glared at the "angel" and turned back on the whistling man. Even from this far away he could tell it was Eliot. Only his hitter would ever make such careful movements to make something beautiful. This con was getting more and more unbelievable with every step.

Nate rolled his eyes and headed in the direction of the hitter. It took a few minutes, the heat pounding down the entire way. By the time he actually reached the hitter he was sweating profusely and already feeling like his world was about to end.

Eliot sensed him two minutes before he reached the little hut. Everything in the hitter's posture changed. He was silently assessing the threat and debating if his hedge clippers would be necessary. His eyes never left the plants he was caring for but his peripheral vision was perfectly placed on the mastermind. He didn't look like he recognized the steps though.

"Stop right there," the hitter growled. Nate was at the edge of the garden and sweating buckets. Apparently Reuel decided to take them on one of the hot days of the year.

"I mean you no harm," Nate said. The sense of dread was filling his stomach to the brim. That paired with the sun made him want to find the nearest bathroom and hurl. His world was spinning and he knew something awful was about to happen.

"No," Eliot agreed, "You're just here to offer me a job."

The hitter gently placed his watering can in its proper place. He turned two narrowed blue eyes on the mastermind and bent his knees. He made no other fight move but he was prepared for battle. Then he waited for Nate's move.

"Damien Moreau," he said.

He regretted the action immediately. Eliot had flinched at his ex-employer's name. Then he shifted his weight to his right leg and folded his hands into fists. His eyes glinted with fire and the mastermind back up a few inches. He raised his hands in surrender and shook his head.

"I don't work for him," he explained, "I'm only interested in what you know."

Eliot's familiar scowl appeared upon his face. He stood straight, the fight gone. He picked up his watering can and marched towards the hut. He opened the door and looked back with a glare.

"I don't know anything," he said. Then he slammed the door behind him.

Nate breathed a small sigh of relief. He was alive. That was a good thing.

"You see," Reuel sighed, "Everything's changed."

"He didn't recognize me," Nate nodded, "Did you drug him?"

"You still don't believe," Reuel shook his head, "And transported you to the other side of the world and you still don't believe. No wonder you had a crisis of faith after Sam."

"Don't talk about my son," Nate hollered towards the man, "You have no idea-"

"I have every idea, Mr. Ford. Who do you think sent me here to help you?"

The mastermind backed away from the man at that. Horror and shock were written all over his face, he was sure. He felt anger, a bubbling fuel rolling up his stomach and burning his throat. He didn't know which emotion to allow through and which to discard. All he knew was that this had gone too far.

"Stop this," Nate growled, "Send me back or whatever it is. I'm sick of this con. Let me go!"

"It isn't a con," Reuel sighed, "I really did erase you from time. Eliot Spencer really does not know you. Parker and Hardison are not together. Sophie is gone. Your team does not exist."

Nate's arms were wrapped around the angel's neck in seconds. He was squeezing with all his might. The anger was pumping through his arms and heart. Pain was urging him forward. Tears were prickling at his eyes.

"What do you mean?" He demanded breathlessly, "What the hell do you mean by Sophie is gone?"

"The name," Reuel chocked out, "The name is no more."

Nate released him, relief suddenly overflowing everything else.

"She's alive?" He asked.

Reuel shrugged. "You will see," he said, "Follow Mr. Spencer. All of your answers rest with him. I am just the guide."

"What am I supposed to do?" Nate snarled at the man, "He doesn't even recognize me!"

"You are the top criminal mastermind in your field," Reuel smiled softly, "Do what you do best. Think."

"What do I say?" Nate asked softly, "Can I use my name?"

"Do whatever you need to," Reuel advised, "Only you know how to gain Eliot Spencer's trust."

_This was going to be a long day_, Nate thought sadly. He turned towards the hitter's hut and proceeded inside without a backwards glance. He had a job to do. The mastermind barreled into the hitter's home with every expectation of a fight. Instead he only managed to get into the door and stop in the living room.

The place was a mess. Everything was nothing like how the hitter usually liked to keep his things. Clothes were discarded on the floor in random piles. Plates were stacked a mile high against the wall. A reclining chair was sitting beside it directly across from a big screen television. How the hitter got electricity was beyond him but…

"I haven't had a chance to clean up. I've been busy."

The tone Eliot used wasn't threatening. It was defensive. He genuinely sounded discouraged by the idea of somebody entering a messy house. That was very… Eliot.

He was standing behind the recliner with a beer in hand. His defenses were down. His arms were against his chest. His legs were clad in blue jeans and his plaid shirt still reined his style. His long hair wasn't cut or trimmed to be less long. If anything it had gotten longer. His build seemed more chiseled and toned. He was working harder on maintaining his physique. He was still in the retrieval business then.

"You gonna tell me what you're doin' here?" The hitter demanded roughly. He punctuated the statement by finishing off the beer and throwing it into a pile.

"Do you have another one of those beers?" Nate asked. They were in the desert and withdrawal was the last thing he needed at the moment.

"It depends on what you want to know," Eliot growled. His smirk had returned but that was because he found his opponent's weakness. The mastermind would recognize that look anywhere.

"Damien Moreau," Nate stated scornfully. His voice even held a note of more knowledge than what he was showing. It was cocky and on the offensive. He couldn't exactly help that. The hitter refused to give him beer. "You used to work for him."

"The key phrase is used to," Eliot replied a snarl in his voice, "I'm not in that kind of business anymore. Haven't been for a while either. You're gonna have to try harder if you want that beer."

"I just want to know everything you know about him," Nate responded softly. He was trying to keep his temper in check but he knew it wasn't happening. Eliot's stance shifted towards his fighting figure again. He was prepping for battle and not even listening to the words.

"There's nothing to tell," Eliot growled.

"Why not?" Nate demanded harshly.

"Damien and I have an agreement," Eliot shrugged, "I don't talk about his business and he won't kill me."

"That doesn't seem like a great way to live," Nate countered.

"I'm alive," Eliot smiled at that. Then he nodded towards the door. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Nate stared at the man with disbelief on his features. Anger was still bubbling up his stomach but he squashed that down. He knew how to get the hitter to give him what he wanted. He just had to remember how to do it. The hitter never opened up voluntarily. It was always for something bigger than his ego. He always did what was best for others over himself. Keeping Moreau's secret allowed him to do that. What would protect innocent people and get him to find the others at the same time?

"I want to take him down," Nate said, "and I need your help to do it."

The hitter stared at him with wary eyes. He studied every inch of the man before him. The puzzlement and curiosity were obvious but the rest wasn't. He had a new expression on his face. It looked like doubt but the mastermind couldn't be sure. His face had a slight frown and his left foot kept tapping on the ground. There was no sign of what the hitter wanted to say or thought. He only looked tired.

"You can't take Damien Moreau down," Eliot shook his head, "He's too powerful."

"I just need information," Nate sighed, "I need to know everything you can tell me. I promise I won't be too much trouble. I just need to know how he likes his drinks and everything you can think of. I know I can take him down with that."

The hitter laughed at that. His voice echoed and boomed in the tiny hut of a home. Fear and disbelief dominated his every move. He knew there was absolutely no way to destroy Damien Moreau. There couldn't be.

"You're crazy," he said.

"Let me prove it to you," Nate replied desperation clouding out all other judgment, "Help me with one day of recon. I promise you that I will find a way to destroy him and his empire."

Eliot stared at him with an amused look on his face.

"Not in that order," the mastermind finished.

He knew it was a winner the moment the words flew from his mouth. He watched as the idea of it dawned on the hitter. He saw the possibilities bouncing around in his long mane. His blue eyes rolled up and started calculating the likelihood of success. His muscles twitched with every successful punch of his fist. Then a crooked grin appeared on his lips.

"I'm in," he said.

Nate smiled something he was certain matched the hitter. Then he said the only other thing he needed to know.

"We're going to have to make a quick stop first."

The expression on the hitter's face was priceless.


	4. Mrs Damien Moreau?

The next day had them on a plane towards America. Reuel had been correct. Nate's card was unlimited and managed to get them two first class seats at the last minute. Eliot still didn't trust him but the unlimited funds did give him credibility. His I.D.'s still worked but a quick internet search into the Boston birth records confirmed the story. He wasn't born and had never been.

Sam had also never existed and it was oddly less joyous information than Nate expected. Sure his son never experienced the pain of cancer. But the boy also never got to experience his first word or his first Red Sox game. And Maggie had never gotten to see how much the boy had her smile. Of course, a quick search confirmed that his ex-wife was still in L.A.

"How did you know Moreau was in Los Angeles?" Eliot whispered towards the mastermind. He was still uncomfortable with their agreement but he was slowly warming up to the idea. At least he wasn't threatening to kill him anymore. That was a plus.

"I didn't," Nate admitted figuring the truth would only benefit the trust factor, "There's an old friend I want to check up on. Moreau being there is just happy circumstance."

"Why do I get the feeling that that happens a lot where you're involved?" The hitter demanded with a smirk.

Nate shrugged.

"Because it does," he grinned.

They landed without a hitch. The hitter grabbed his luggage and looked around for the bag the mastermind had brought. Nate shook his head and picked up the only luggage that looked brand new. He had made quite a show at the nearest mall when he bought himself a new luggage set and suits. People stared but it only worked to help the hitter believe his story more. Plus the look on his face at the quick shopping trip made it worth the trouble it caused.

"Just as bad as a woman," Eliot grumbled.

For some reason he insisted on taking the suitcase away from Nate and packing it into their cab. His bag was packed for two days specifically while the mastermind had packed for a week. Of course, the hitter's eyes did rise at the automatic purchase of two pairs of high heeled, designer shoes during their layover in Paris.

"I still don't get why you bought two pairs of shoes and a dress," he continued to complain during their long drive from the airport. "There isn't any woman on this trip. Are you planning on picking up some hooker or something, because I am not down with that. I want to go in, get this job done and go. Understood, Ford?"

Ford, Nate thought mockingly. It was never Nate, only Ford. It was worse than when they had first met. At least when they were opposites sides they were civil to each other but five extra years without each other added to the eight years before seemed to be it. They were now nothing more than business colleagues who couldn't stand each other. Yay!

"Who are they for anyway?" Eliot asked.

"My-" Nate struggled to find the right word to describe the grifter, "My friend."

That word seemed to satisfy the hitter briefly. The mastermind felt it wasn't right. Sophie was his grifter, his confidante, his lover and a whole long list of complicated things that didn't seem to be covered by one definition at all. Well, there was a word for it. He would just have to find it while he tries to pull his team back together.

"Why would you go to Paris to buy a friend clothes?" Eliot muttered to himself.

Nate smiled at that. Of course the hitter wasn't satisfied with the friend answer. He was looking for any possible weakness Moreau could find. Which meant Eliot was considering making this job permanent. His heart was as hardened as he wanted to pretend. He still wanted to protect the world and gain some retribution for his sins. Taking down Damien Moreau would free him of the burden of his past. The mastermind was more than willing to help him with that.

"It's habit," Nate explained softly, "You won't have to worry about it. She's gone."

"Then why did you pick up an outfit," Eliot asked back in a low growl. He couldn't hide the slight sadness in his voice though.

"For our grifter," the mastermind replied. He couldn't help the slight tilt to his lips at the hitter's reaction. Clearly he wasn't thrilled about the presumption that they were taking Moreau down. But he wasn't arguing either and that was good.

The cab stopped by the cemetery that had once held Sam within its fenced walls. The mastermind and hitter both stumbled out as quietly as possible. Eliot's head was bowed down in respect but his eyes were boring into the mastermind's skull. Nate ignored him as usual. They walked past veterans and those who probably died of old age. Small tombstones sparkled in the son, their names and dates most obvious compared to the rest. Still Nate ignored them as well. He was only interested in one spot, the family plot. Then he found it.

"James Ford," the hitter read off.

Nate stared at the simple letters. He hadn't expected to find his father dead in this world too. He hadn't even expected him to be L.A. The family plot should have been in Boston but instead it wasn't. Something happened to force Jimmy to change where he wanted to buried. It was a very out of character sort of thing.

"Is this why we're going after Moreau?" Eliot rasped. His voice held fury and betrayal and they had only known each other for a matter of minutes, for him. "So you can extract your revenge on him for your old man."

"He wasn't my old man," Nate replied heatedly, at least not this time around.

"Why are we here?" Eliot demanded angrily. His fists were clenched and his face was turning purple. This Eliot had a short fuse. "You said we were going to take down Damien Moreau."

"You said you were only going to help me with one day of recon," Nate shrugged, "This is just a detour. The real reason I came here was to check on an old friend. During my research for that old friend he popped up in a cemetery. I figured I would come to pay my respects."

"I thought he wasn't your old man," Eliot smirked knowingly. Sarcasm dominated everything about him and he seemed far more stressed than he was before.

"Let's go check on Maggie," Nate declared.

He grinned at the hitter's stunned look. But the younger man followed him into the cab and to the address appointed by the mastermind. He was in it for the long haul no matter how hard he tried not to be.

They had to wait two hours before Maggie Collins made her appearance. The young blonde drove into her driveway while the mastermind and hitter sipped at their coffee cups. She unpacked some groceries and walked indoors. A school bus stopped by at three and two children got off. She was standing in the door way to greet them with hugs and kisses. The oldest was a girl about fourteen or fifteen and the youngest was a boy of eight or nine years. Both had brown hair and looked happy to see their mother. Then the girl turned towards them to look at something nearby.

Nate gasped and fought himself before he could blow his cover. The hitter tensed at the action and waited to see what would happen next. He had no idea that Olivia Sterling was the young woman politely waving to them before she entered her home.

"Sterling," Nate said biting his lip as he spoke, "She married James Sterling."

"The Insurance Investigator?" Eliot asked, "Really? That's his wife? She's hot. Totally out of his league."

"Good for her," Nate grinned. She had finally found somebody she deserved. Plus Sterling would do everything to make her happy. That was comforting.

"Now it's time to go check up on Damien Moreau," he declared softly.

Eliot sputtered at the way he was acting but nodded. He was going to wait for answers to reveal themselves when they were ready. Then he would add voice to the questions in his mind. That was good. The hitter was sold and they just needed more information before they went after the rest of their team. Things were looking up.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Nate asked when they made it to their final destination.

The hitter merely inclined his head slightly. The mastermind paid off their driver and instructed him to get lost. Then they both found a nice restaurant and immediately set to work at ordering their food. The area they were in had a large skyscraper before them. Moreau's address matched that of the penthouse suite. It was just his style.

"My contacts are the best in the business," Eliot replied, "Moreau is going to arrive at a half hour past five. He won't be alone and we may even find a weakness."

Just like magic the limousine arrived. The big black bulk stopped in front of the massive building. Moreau's bodyguard, Chapman, hopped right on out. He carefully scanned both ends of the street and the surrounding crowd before nodding his head. He held the door as a tall, sleek man with dark brown hair and power rolling off of him stepped on out. Damien Moreau smiled as he removed his sunglasses from his face. He looked at the building. He took a great big breath and smiled wider. Then he turned back towards the car and reached in a delicate hand. A brunette with a killer figure came out attached to that hand.

"Great," Eliot scowled, "He's once again attached to a great pair of legs."

The mastermind said nothing at the hitter's grumbling rant. He recognized the brunette's figure. He even recognized that sultry walk and the power swirling around her. His heart hammered and he was forced to stand at his full height just to make sure. Then the beautiful brunette twirled around for a fleeting moment and the world stopped. He would recognize those beautiful brown eyes anywhere.

"And that is the reason nobody will ever be able to stop him," Eliot finished with a vicious growl.

"Damien Moreau?" He gasped staring at the sight with horror and nausea beating against his chest. "Sophie works for Damien Moreau?"

"Who's Sophie?" Eliot demanded. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. He looked like he did any time the hacker tried to explain something technical to him. "That's Charlotte Prentice. As in Charlotte Prentice-Moreau!"

Nate's stomach dropped at that announcement. Suddenly his head began to swim and his breath was coming in short sharp gasps. He struggled to undo his tie as black spots started to appear across his vision.

Eliot gave him a worried look. He shot out a hand and fought to steady him. "Whoa there," he said, "Are you okay?"

Nate shook his head and tried to breathe. He felt the hitter guiding him somewhere but all he could see were black dots and blurry lines. He felt the back of his knees slam into something. Then he was staring at the ground with his head between his knees and his butt on a park bench.

"Better?" the hitter asked. Worry was actually in his voice again. That was a good thing, right?

The mastermind took a deep breath and slowly rose to a proper sitting position. He raised a hand to his head and stared. His hands were shaking. He looked back across the street and noticed that Sophie was now in Moreau's arms. The couple shared a passionate kiss by the limousine. Nate cringed at the image before him.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Eliot said voicing the mastermind's opinion to a T, "To think that couple is the world's most notorious and evil group of crooks and thieves in the business. Heartless to the core the both of them. They would sooner burn down every town with women and children than give each other up. I bet they would even sell their spouse for a price."

Nate listened to the hitter's words without really hearing them. He had tunnel vision and Sophie was on the other end of it. The grifter and their enemy had finally stopped swapping spit long enough for him to get a good look at her. She looked younger but her eyes were older. Her beautiful brown orbs were black with coldness and corruption. Her form was in top physique but it was edged with a fighter's muscles. Her clothes were more based on price than glamour. Even the way she walked was different. There was an edge to it, like she was ready for anything and more than adapted to turn it into an advantage. Every move she made was more than calculating. It was dangerous.

Moreau had changed too, Nate was sad to note. His enemy was leaner now. His physique matched that of the grifter's in that it was more than ready for a one on one battle. His black eyes were colder, crueler than they had been before. His clothes also showed his status but he wasn't constantly surrounded by girls. He was less carefree with his every motion. His gait was regal and consumed with power. He was on a higher pedestal than he had been in the other time. It was almost godlike the way he acted.

"They're so high in power that nobody wants to touch them," Eliot finished. "Future generations of every mob on the planet are currently competing to see who will take over when they're dead and gone."

"Don't worry, Eliot," Nate said. He watched as Moreau held the door for his Sophie to enter before disappearing into the brick building. Then he took a deep breath, filled with determination to make everything right this time. "We're going to knock them down and we're going to knock them down hard."

"And how are you planning on doing that?" The hitter demanded incredulity in his every breath.

"We're going to steal her!" Nate said. Then he rose to his full height and left the hitter staring after him as always.


	5. Thief Catching

"Charlotte Moreau!" Eliot screamed at the top of his voice, "You want to kidnap Damien Moreau's wife! How are we supposed to do that?"

They had just returned to Nate's new headquarters. It was nothing compared to the old ones but it was close enough. He had chosen the building that held their very first office. He figured it would be the best way to make certain his team came together this time around. History would not be repeated. Sophie was their mark now.

"You do realize that that pair has destroyed countless lives before they were together," Eliot continued to rant, "Do you know just how many lives were lost when they teamed up. I'm talking billions, man! Billions of lives just at the hands of two power hungry people!"

Nate slammed his fists into the brand new table. The movement was just odd enough to stop the hitter's rant. All noise ceased as the mastermind's emotions took over. He felt his blood boiling in his veins. His chest tightened and his heart hammered against it. His lungs ached with the need for oxygen but every breath was sharp pain and unbearable to experience. His head felt like it was splitting apart. His eyes stung and he felt the blinding rage shake him.

"Tell me what they've done," Nate ordered the hitter softly.

Eliot just gave him a look so he repeated his words as loud as possible. Then the hitter nodded and got them both beers. He sat down at the conference table and kept his piercing blue gaze on his employer. His eyes spoke volumes of what he was thinking. He was measuring the crazy man and trying to decide how to handle it. Judgment wasn't on his features. He just looked patient.

"You might want to sit down," he suggested, "You look like you're going to pass out any moment."

"It's just a panic attack," Nate shook it off. But he took heed of the hitter's advice. He sat and sipped at his beer. It was high quality malt but it still tasted like bitter salt in his mouth. The alcohol smelled foul when it should have held a sweet scent of comfort. Even the feel of the bottle in his hands wasn't comforting. He was an alcoholic whose addiction no longer mattered.

"It's not a panic attack," the hitter said shaking his head as he said it, "It looks like fury to me."

And that was exactly what it was. The mastermind nodded and grimaced at just how accurate of a read he was. His emotions were obvious symptoms. Everything he did, the way his thoughts wandered. They were not fearful thoughts. No, the only images rolling through his head were the billions of ways he could kill Damien Moreau with his bare hands. Images of Sophie in that man's arms worshipping Moreau the way she had loved him flashed across the mastermind's mind. The soft glow was completely chocked out of her eyes. Moreau would pay dearly for that. It was a deep hatred that filled every ounce of Nathan Ford and forced his body to react in kind. Of course the hitter would notice something like that.

"That man looks at her like she's a possession," Nate explained calmly. At least he hoped his voice was calm. The tumultuous emotions and thoughts running through his mind were too hard to stop. He couldn't tell which emotion was actually apparent when he didn't even know which to hide.

"Damien Moreau has every right to look at his wife that way," Eliot shrugged sipping at his beer as he went, "In a way she is his possession."

"No man has a right to destroy happiness," Nate snarled pathetically, "He doesn't deserve that kind of power!"

"How much do you want to know?" Eliot asked softly, "You seem a little too interested and all."

"I want to know absolutely everything about them," Nate explained, "And leave no detail out."

So the hitter described every event of the past fifteen years. From the moment the two met in Paris to everything they had done within the last six months. No stone was left unturned and the mastermind's body shook with horror at what his grifter had done. There was nothing he could do to ignore the pain she had afflicted on so many innocent people. Her nickname was the Queen of Evil and she seemed so proud of the title. She was a completely different person and Moreau was the only difference. No, he was the difference. He had wished his life away and she was the one who paid the price.

"We're going to need a thief and a hacker," Nate said.

He watched the hitter for any signs of discontent. A scowl was his only answer but it was more out of disgruntled agreement than anything else. He just nodded along and kept sipping at his beer. His eyes were dark with memories of the horrors he had performed for Moreau.

"Sounds like a plan," Eliot commented softly.

"So the first thing we need to do is go to the bank," Nate explained.

Eliot stared at him in confusion. The mastermind just gave him a wink and left the way he always did. The hitter found him moments later and they were on their way.

**Serbia, 3 p.m. The very next day…**

They were in an abandoned warehouse searching for signs of life. A bed sat there with a rack of harnesses to its left and glass writing boards to its right. A plush bunny sat in the middle of the bed and the lights were motion activated.

"This is definitely Parker's place," Nate smiled. The thief hadn't changed a bit. That was always a good sign.

"PPPP-Parker?" Eliot chocked out in surprise. He looked visibly shaken by the very idea of it. He even gripped at his shirt collar and tugged it away from his neck in nervousness. "You want to use Parker as your thief? She's insane!"

"Not insane," Nate shook his head, "just misunderstood. Besides, nobody's ever caught her. Aren't you a little interested in trying to figure out why?"

"What makes you think we can catch her when nobody else has?" Eliot questioned immediately.

"I've got ten thousand dollars' worth of non-sequential bills," Nate said. He held them up in the air and waited for the bait to be taken. He wasn't disappointed.

A blonde blur of movement appeared on the ground before them. Blue-grey eyes stared at them with a feral glint. The tiny frame looked starved and prepared for danger. The thief looked like an animal caged. She kept flicking her head between the two of them. She was expecting an attack but her grip was firm on the dollar bills in the mastermind's hand. She tried to tug them away again and failed. Then her feral gaze turned to the mastermind's and stared.

"You only get these if you agree to do a job with me," Nate explained softly. He was answering the question before she asked. He knew every conspiracy she believed in. Mind reading was her personal favorite and it was going to be the only way to get her with them.

"Plus you'll be paid well," he added.

The thief studied him for a few seconds. Motion caught her attention and she turned dangerous eyes the hitter's way. He was standing before her with intent of harm. The mastermind could see that. He also knew the hitter wouldn't attack unless ordered or provoked. Parker knew that too if the way she turned her gaze away from him was any indication.

"What's the job?" She asked. Her voice was cold, calculating.

Nate smiled as he gave her the winning answer.

"Taking down Damien Moreau," he said.

The smile he received from the thief was all the answer he needed. He released the bills and watched the thief delight in the smell of it. She skipped to the bed, grabbed her bear and took another sniff of the bills. She grabbed a few harnesses and asked several questions about what she would need. The mastermind supplied the answers and she just nodded. She was a complete professional in every way. But it was the way she kept casting worried glances the hitter's way that revealed the truth.

The scars for her in the last five years must have been worse. Her eyes were colder too, like Sophie's. She looked as though her life had been rougher somehow. The crazy sparkle in her eyes wasn't filled with glee. Her hair was less glossy. Her hair skin was pale. Bags were under her eyes and she looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks. A few dark spots speckled her arms but she still had the same child-like wonder. Then she grabbed her bag and stared at him.

"I'm ready," she explained, "but I better be getting paid for this."

The mastermind smiled and nodded his head.

"You will never have to worry about money again when we are through," he promised.

He ignored the hateful look she sent the hitter's way. He had earned the thief's loyalty with her favorite money. But she would abandon him for a bigger payout. The challenge was the glue binding her to him. He was going to take advantage of that for as long as possible. Her turned to follow Parker out of the warehouse and noticed the hitter staring.

"How did you catch the most uncatchable thief in history?" Eliot demanded quietly.

"Non-sequential bills are her favorite," Nate whispered with a shrug.

"What's your name, sir?" Parker interrupted. Her eyes were like daggers boring into his skin. She looked so fragile and dangerous. Something broke her further and she bent with the pressure. She was going to be harder to reach now than she was when they started.

"Ford," Nate replied smoothly, "Nathan Ford. Now let's go get Hardison."

He pointedly ignored the way they were staring at him. It was difficult to hide the smile though. They were looking at him like he was crazy. It was such a familiar feeling that he couldn't help but laugh. The laughter only increased as their expressions suggested he was insane. Maybe they were right. This whole experience was insane. Of course, his insanity was only increasing. He needed his hacker and his grifter back. He needed to fix his team. He needed them to be whole. He made the mistake and they were being punished. He would rescue his team. They deserved it.


	6. Hacking and Kidnapping

**A/N:** _Hey guys, sorry for the late story update. I've been sick with the flu and only just now felt well enough to think. It's a total bummer that Leverage was canceled but at least we got five seasons. Usually I barely get two (R.I.P. Pushing Daisies) or I get left with a cliff hanger. We know this finale's going to give us something cool to think about. Plus, the show will live on with our fanfiction stories if we let it. Again, sorry for the late update but I'm trying. Enjoy!_

The quest for the hacker found them in Boston oddly enough.

Hardison was clicking away on his computer when the three of them barged in. He stared at them for a good seven seconds before he raced towards the window. Parker, who came through the window, just pushed him to the ground. Eliot immediately grabbed the hacker by the shoulders and forced him to his feet. Hardison tried to throw a punch but the mastermind stopped it with a hand and a firm look at each member of his team.

"We're not here to hurt you," he explained releasing the hand as he spoke, "We want your help."

"Funny way of showing it," Hardison retorted.

"We're taking down Damien Moreau," Parker giggled at the hacker's reply.

The hacker looked like he had been hit by a bulldozer when he saw the smile. Nate grinned at that. The hacker was still mesmerized by the blonde thief. Even in this cruel world he still found her youthful outlook on life beautiful. Maybe he wasn't as bad as the others after all. Maybe he was still the same kind, brilliant young man he was before.

"We need a hacker," Eliot finished with a roll of his eyes. He knew exactly where the hacker's thoughts had landed. "Rumor has it you're the best."

"Those rumors are true but I'm not helping you," Hardison growled, "I don't even know you. You came into my house and threatened my life and expect me to just agree to some crazy plan to take down Damien "the Black King" Moreau. Yeah, unlike ya'll I have a life I would like to keep."

"Fine," Nate shrugged at his reply. He motioned towards the hitter and the thief. Then he smirked at the look of disappointment on their features. "We'll leave."

"We can't leave him conscious," Eliot decided, "He'll tell somebody we're going after Moreau."

"We could push him out the window," Parker suggested excitedly, "It is the twelfth floor. It would buy us six months of hospital time."

"If he survives," Eliot agreed.

Nate shook his head at the idea of it.

"No," he said, "Let him go. He'll be fine. We'll just go to Chaos instead. He's the better hacker anyway."

Hardison stared at him mouth opened wide in shock. That was the reaction the mastermind wanted to create.

"Hold up," he said, "You think Chaos is a better hacker than me. He's not even a team player. He's barely even good. Hell, I'm the best hacker there ever is or will be. Ya'll need to work on your information because it is seriously screwed."

"Yeah," Nate nodded, "If you say so. I'm sure you're an excellent hacker, don't get me wrong. It's just, Chaos can beat a Steranko so going after somebody as high up their as Damien Moreau should be a piece of cake for him."

"We understand if you're too scared," Eliot added just for fun, "You've got a life to live and all."

"Chicken," Parker commented softly.

_Right,_ Nate thought absently, _Sophie hasn't taught Parker how to deal with people this time around._

The hacker was left sputtering and staring as the three returned to the door. His face was slack-jawed and his eyes were bulging. He looked confused and more than a little angry. He was falling into the trap quite nicely.

"Alright," Hardison sighed, "I know you're manipulating me but it's going to work because ya'll need to get your information straight. I am one hell of a better hacker than Chaos can ever hope to be. So yeah, I'll help you take down Damien Moreau."

"Great," Parker cheered. She clapped her hands together and did a back flip just for fun.

Eliot rolled his eyes and nodded at the hacker's reply.

Nate smiled. "Now let's go steal ourselves the Black Queen," he said.

He left the room with the hacker sputtering after him. He distinctively heard:

"And what exactly does he mean by that?"

"We're going to steal Charlotte Moreau!"

%

"So," Hardison coughed. Their plane had just landed and he was looking even more nervous than usual. His fingers were even shaking. "How are we going to do it?"

"Are we going to snatch her and throw her into the car," Parker questioned softly, "Or are we going to drug her and then throw her into the car? I could totally do a plane if you want me to."

"We could fake an explosion," Eliot suggested softly, "I can get close enough to the limo to grab her and Hardison could set off some tech."

"If he's as good as he says he is," Parker added with a smile.

"I'm better," Hardison rolled his eyes at the two, "but I do have to admit that I have no idea why we're going after the Mrs. When we are taking down Moreau."

"Weakness," Nate shrugged, "She's his. If we can turn her-"

"Turn her?" Eliot growled, "You think we can turn something as equally evil as Damien Moreau? You're out of your mind."

"It could be fun though," Parker smiled.

"If we can figure out her weakness we can use that to get her husband's and thus bring them both down in one fowl swoop," Nate finished with a glare directed the hitter's way.

"Okay," Hardison nodded, "How are we supposed to do that?"

The next day…

Boom!

Sirens were going off every which way while Eliot and Parker raced towards the limo. The thief quickly picked the lock while the hitter barged inside. The brunette struggled against them as she was pulled out. Her legs were kicking and her fists were flying. Eliot was hit in the nose several times. Parker was sworn at in several different languages. Nobody seemed very happy when they finally made it to their hideout. So Nate just smiled the biggest smile he had and plopped his glass of whiskey on the table.

"Welcome," he said, "to your new home."

The screaming, kicking figure stopped at his odd announcement. Two black eyes of hate fell upon him. The grifter's cheeks were flush with anger and she was swaying on her right ankle. There was a bruise appearing over her right eye and another on her left cheek. She was wearing a midnight blue dress with a black sweater overcoat. Her black heels were stilettos and she was still holding her clutch.

"For how long?" she asked.

The voice that came from her lips was unexpected. It was British, yes, but it was high society British. She was from upper London and had no reason to care for anyone beneath her. Power was her only love and she had grown quite accustomed to it. There was no fiery emotion in her stride. She knew what was happening and she was already seizing control. She was not the Sophie Devereaux she should have been.

"That depends on you," Nate raised his glass in toast and then spoke the most disgusting phrase in his vocabulary to date, "Mrs. Moreau. Please, show our guest to her room."

Before anything could happen, Sophie was pointing a gun in his face. Parker was on the floor and Eliot was looking towards the mastermind for orders. In the blink of an eye the woman before him had already taken the power away. At least she thought she had. So the mastermind toasted her with another glass of whiskey and smiled wider at her. The surprise in her eyes told him he was doing the right thing. She didn't know what to do.

"I demand you release me at once or I will shoot you," Sophie declared, "I'm not an unreasonable woman. I can forget this little endeavor happened if you wish. I'm very good at forgetting faces when I need to."

Nate stared at her and felt the smile on his lips grow wider. Maybe Parker and Eliot were right. He was crazy.

"I'm afraid that won't work," he replied.

"I'll do it," Sophie hissed, her voice dripping with anger at a denied claim. "My husband is the most powerful man in the world. He's taught me how to be ruthless when necessary."

Nate stared at the woman threatening his life. The sadness in those eyes was astounding, the hate more so. He could just see the pain of her past bubbling just under the surface. What did he do to you? He thought sadly.

Then he noticed her trigger finger starting to press down. He yanked the gun up and quickly pulled the gun away from her. The hitter went into action at the silent order. Sophie was struggling against him as she tried to break free. Curses of many dialects were escaping her lips again as she struggled for freedom. Her black eyes were narrowed in hate at him.

"What do you want?" She demanded angrily, "Is it money? Little girls? Little boys? I can get them for you very easily if you just let me go!"

Nate closed his eyes in misery of the way she spoke. It was as if this were any other business deal. She was just negotiating the price for her freedom. She wasn't even trying to explain to them that her husband was going to rescue her shortly. She didn't even play that card.

"There is nothing you can offer," Eliot growled into her ear, "It's time for retribution."

"Somebody is bound to have heard me," she cried.

Nate shook his head. "We own the building," he explained, "Nobody knows you're here. Please take her to her room."

"Yes, sir," Parker nodded.

"Eliot," Nate called after, "Take her clutch. I'll be back to make demands later."

"Where are you going?" Hardison demanded of the mastermind loudly.

The mastermind slammed the main door closed behind him in answer. He could still hear Sophie's cries of anger on repeat in his mind. But it was her once soft eyes that really had him floored. The hatred in them seemed able to conquer the world. Her voice had changed. Her posture had changed. Her entire heart seemed hard. If she hadn't been so surprised by the smile on his face he would have been dead already. She would have pulled that trigger and not thought a thing about it. What happened to her three rules? She was a murderer now.

Nate threw a bottle of scotch into the bar wall in disgust. It was the first thing he did when he entered the place. He had cleared it out before Sophie arrived. He didn't want any witnesses and now it was his safe haven for the week. He sighed as he poured himself a couple fingers of bourbon. It was probably going to be months before he even discovered her weakness. It was hopeless. Now he was alone in a bar without his friends and without a reasonable way home.

"Reuel, where are you?" Nate screamed towards the ceiling. It was the only benefit of being alone in a bar. He could be as loud as he wanted. Nobody would care because nobody was there.

"I'm here," Reuel's voice sighed.

Nate turned towards the angel immediately. He carried his bottle towards him and glared holes into his eyes. He took another swig and quickly found his voice.

"What have you done to Sophie?" He rasped.

"I did nothing," Reuel growled back, "I only-"

"Nothing?" Nate snarled, "She's married to Moreau. She's off selling innocent children to the highest bidder. She's an arms dealer!"

"She's what she would have become if you were never in her life!" Reuel argued, "You did this not me. You asked to never be born and I did that. Now you have to suffer the consequences. All of them not just the good ones!"

"She's a murderer!" Nate growled.

Clink!

The bottle of bourbon had slipped from his fingers. He watched it circle around the floor before it made its final stop. It poured on the floor and only intensified his anger. Everything about this place was wrong. Parker was wrong. Sophie was wrong. His team was wrong. Nothing was what it was supposed to be.

"Why is she a murderer?" He asked his voice whisper thin and filled with defeat.

"Because you weren't there to chase her," Reuel explained, "You didn't interfere with her con so it was successful. She didn't run because she didn't have to. She bumped into Damien Moreau and became the worst instead of the best."

"Can I save her?"

The look he received from the angel was not encouraging. No, the angel looked at him helplessly. Then his frown deepened and he shook his head.

"No," he said, "Her fate in this world is sealed. You continue on this path and you will watch her fail. But no matter what you do, she will never be Sophie Devereaux."


	7. A Weakness, Sam

**A/N:** _Sorry, for the long wait between updates. I promise you they will speed up once I get back to school. I have more time to write then but I've got a lot of the ending finished. It's just middle that needs to be worked on. Plus I've got the other stories too. Enjoy and be on the look out for more updates._

Nate ignored the odd looks coming from his team. Instead he just barreled on through until Eliot stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you going to do to her?" He asked softly.

His eyes automatically looked towards the hacker and thief to make certain they weren't listening. Nate smiled at that. He was already protecting them. He just wasn't quite protecting them because he wanted to yet.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Nate replied, "Not yet anyway."

The hitter's response was unexpected to say the least. He shoved his hand into his shoulder and glared at him. Then he put a death grip onto his arm and forced him to look into his eyes. There was concern on his features.

"What are you going to do?" He stressed.

"We're just going to talk," the mastermind replied arms in the air.

The hitter nodded his head and released his powerful grip. He went towards the kitchen and immediately started preparing food. He usually did that because Parker was hungry. Now he was doing it because he was nervous. It was the only safe distraction he could come up with to take up his time while he waited for his boss to finish the job.

Nate quickly surveyed the room to find the thief and the hacker. The gap between them seemed a mile long compared to only days ago. In the other world they were inseparable. You could never find one without the other. Now they were complete strangers who weren't even showing interest this time around. The holes inside each of them were far too many and far too big. It would take a miracle and a lot of work to get them where they were before. He could do it. It was just going to take a while, but he would do it.

"Nobody go in there unless I call for you," Nate commanded softly.

The three 'kids' nodded their heads at the command. Then they promptly went to work ignoring each other. He sighed in pain of their action. He would correct that error soon but first he had to begin to mend the most difficult wound. So he entered the grifter's room as carefully and quietly as possible.

She was on the bed lounging there. Her eyes were opened wide and she was staring at him with cold calculation. Yet her position was highly sexual and had the appropriate response despite the mastermind's efforts. The slight part of her lips showed she was aware of her affect. Perfect.

"Hello, Mrs. Moreau," Nate growled.

He walked over to the bed and quickly checked himself. He slammed into the chair located right beside it. Then he made certain to ignore her seductive body. He looked her dead in the eyes and ignored the slight merriment there. It was amusement at the ways she could push him. There was nothing genuine about her. She was all business and it was disgusting to behold. Mostly it was just painful but the mastermind was going to ignore that. Of course, she seemed to have other plans.

"Shall we get started then?" She asked.

She moved off of the bed in seconds flat. She sat on his lap and started pressing his body into his. She was just about to press her lips to his when he turned away. Then he raised his arms and pushed her onto the bed. She smirked at that and readied herself for what would come next. The anger at her moves firmly boiled over in the mastermind's stomach.

"I didn't come for that," he growled, looking away as he spoke.

"Then what did you come in here for?" She asked clearly not believing him, "You seem to like what you see."

"I came to talk," Nate replied. He silently scolded himself for falling for her charms. Of course he would start to look at all she had to offer when he had a job to do. And she was more than aware of the affect she had on him. He was just adding tools to her arsenal. He wasn't helping anybody especially her. No, he would not fall for her con.

"Besides I'm taken," he added on with spite.

"Taken men don't faze me," she said with a wink.

"I'm sure honest men do," he said raising his brow in challenge.

Sophie laughed at that.

"You're not an honest man," she said.

Then she began to laugh even harder. Her smile was genuine but cold. The laugh showed her disbelief and worse, her power. She was nothing but the worst now. All of her gentleness was gone. She was nothing but pure evil. It was time to knock her off that pedestal. The hard way would be the only way to catch her attention, unfortunately.

"You're right," he grinned raising her wallet as he spoke, "An honest man wouldn't pick your pocket."

The smile fell immediately. She quickly checked her pant pocket and nearly exploded from the anger at what she found. Her face turned neutral instantly. She was an adamant professional even now. The control she held was completely infuriating. Even when they had started their chase around the world she was an easier read. Now she was closed off in ways he had never anticipated. The scars were thick bricks of impenetrable doom. He was just bouncing off before he could get a good grip.

So the mastermind broke a very firm rule in their relationship. He opened her wallet without permission. He discarded the credit cards as if they were nothing. He laughed at the fact that they were actually limited to ten thousand each. Moreau had her shoe addiction on a budget. He took note that she still kept some of the familiar aliases; Charlotte Prentice (Moreau,) Christy Connelly, Jenny Smith, Annie Kroy. There were several he had never seen before. Each and every one was more powerful than the next. A couple of cards were found with names of some pretty impressive forgers including Marcus Stark. He would have Hardison check up on Sophie's favorite forger as soon as their little meeting was over. It would be interesting to see if Moreau allowed the man to live. Then, tucked gently under a secret compartment in the back, he found a picture he was not expecting.

He dropped the wallet in his hands. It was a child he was staring at. It was an innocent little boy with a big smile on his face. He had dark black hair with tiny curls decorating his scalp. He had big brown eyes and long eyelashes. His cheekbones were high and his skin was perfectly tone olive tan. He had a tiny frame but his shoulders were broad. Muscles were already beginning to ripple over his shirtless chest. Thank goodness he was wearing red swimming trunks or he would have done something awful to the grifter staring at him.

He turned towards her watchful eyes. For the first time ever he felt pure hatred bubbling inside his veins and it was directed towards the beautiful woman before him. Every thought and feeling was aimed at taking her away. He wanted nothing more than to harm her for that picture. Then he felt the hatred turn towards him. How could he ever harm her? Of course, how could an angel like her fall so far from Heaven's embrace?

"Who is this?" He demanded bitterly. He waved the picture in front of her and waited for her response.

The grifter just shrugged in response but her posture had changed. Her eyes were darker somehow. It was as though the entire room was waiting for news on which temperature to turn to, all because of her mood.

"Some boy we give to the highest bidder," she explained, "We don't ask what they want him for and he comes at a very high price. Do you like him?"

"You sell innocent children for people's amusement?" He questioned harshly.

"He's the one we sell to the hard sellers," she shrugged, "Usually in bargain for others. He means nothing more. Why would he? He's just a boy."

Nate bit back the retort he wanted to scream at her. He had promised Eliot he would cause the grifter no harm. He would keep that promise but she was making it so difficult. How could anybody talk so carelessly about selling children? He was an innocent baby and she just kept tossing him away like gar…

"He," Nate noted suddenly. She kept calling him he. She wasn't disassociating herself. That was a very unusual slip-up. No dealer would make that mistake, at least not with the merchandise. Unless, she was trying to sell him. But she was too good at reading to not know little boys didn't do it for him.

"You're lying," he declared softly.

She rolled her eyes in reply. So he returned to staring at the photograph. He had to think of something that would catch the grifter's attention. He needed to figure out why she was protecting the boy. He also needed to know who it was. It looked like a recent take but that could be very easy to hide. It could be Moreau as a little boy or some brother of hers that died years ago. The key to getting inside the grifter's head was through her heart after all. A strategy change was in order.

"Are you going to talk to me at all?" He asked.

The grifter's lazy silence was answer enough for him. She was going to make him work for it. That was fine with him. He had been trained by the greatest and all that.

"Fine," he shrugged, "Then welcome to the all about Nathan Ford hour."

He licked his lips and thought of where to begin. He could start with his birth but that wouldn't intrigue her right now. No, she would want to know some deep dark secret to use against him later. She was a natural lie detector too so it had to be the truth. So what was he going to tell her?

"I just discovered that my ex-wife is now married to my ex-best friend," he began, "and I'm oddly okay with that."

The grifter showed no sign of interest but he wasn't fooled. Her eyes twitched upwards before they went back to staring at the door. She was thinking of a plan to escape he was sure. But he was distracting her enough that she wanted to comment. He could keep this up just as long as she could. He knew from experience.

"He's a good man," he explained, "somebody she deserves. I hope it works out and hey they've got a beautiful son. His daughter seems to still be a little spitfire too. It will be interesting to see where they are in a few years. I bet she'll be going to Harvard or Yale or God forbid Oxford if he has a say in it."

"A beautiful son," Sophie commented dryly, "So you do have a taste for younger meat. I should have known."

"I meant he looks like his mother," the mastermind growled, "Why should you have known?"

"Look at me," she explained effectively drawing his eyes wherever her hands roamed and they did roam. "You haven't even begun an effective torture strategy. Instead you're gripping that little boy's picture like a lifeline. And you're talking about your ex-wife, a possible weakness for you, and her gorgeous son. Honestly, Mr. Ford, you should really consider my offer. I'll even give you a discount price."

"I'm not interested in little boys, Mrs. Moreau," he snarled, "and the reason why I haven't touched you is because I'm a gentleman."

"Some gentleman," Sophie grumbled, "You're keeping me prisoner and away from my husband's very warm bed. I'm feeling oh so lonely."

"I don't know how you can feel so lonely when I'm sitting right here," Nate rolled his eyes at his words, "where I will be staying. And you will be staying in that bed for right now. I'm not exactly interested in what's underneath those clothes of yours, my dear."

"Who's lying now?" She demanded back bitterly.

"Look you know why you're being kept here," he supplied, "You're nothing more than a weapon to use against your husband. I'm merely trying to keep you occupied. You should work with me. It will only be to your benefit if you do."

"I'm not giving you anything to use against my husband," she moaned, "so either be a man and teach me a lesson or get out. My tongue is tied."

Silence enveloped the former couple once again. The grifter continued her game of staring at the door. Her left eyebrow twitched with the dozens of exit plans forming in her mind. The mastermind took note of every single one and sighed. He knew none of them would work but he couldn't crush her desire for freedom.

The picture caught his attention again. The boy was a wonder behold. His features were handsome and well-defined. His brown eyes crinkled in an oddly familiar way. He was blissfully happy with his rosy cheeks making him appear breathless from running around the world. He could sense the grifter's unease at his close scrutiny of the picture. She kept secretly sending him warning glares the longer he stared at it. She just kept sitting there with her arms crossed and a pout on her features.

"I had a son once," Nate said.

It was why he was so enthralled by the picture. The image reminded him of Sam. Well, the boy did hold some familiarity. There was something about him that was striking, tugging at his memory. It didn't help that Sam kept flashing through his mind whenever he looked at the hair. Every time he dared to look at the boy's eyes he would see his grifter, the one who never married Moreau. He would look into this little boy's eyes and see the caring, sweet grifter who took care of everybody and could never do any harm. He didn't see the cold woman on his bed sending glares his way.

She remained silent but he could sense her curiosity despite the cold exterior. He was about to hook her. All he had to do was make certain he chose his words wisely.

"I remember how amazing he was at this age," he commented softly, "What is he? Four? Five?"

"Eight," Sophie corrected scornfully. Her brown-black eyes were narrowed slits but her attitude had changed. She was more weary now; a lioness on the hunt or snake readying for the strike. She was colder now, signaling that he was reaching dangerous territory.

"Eight," Nate nodded. He should have known that would be the answer. "That was how old Sam was when I lost him."

"Sam?" Sophie questioned softly. Her voice had changed completely at that name. It wasn't just curious, it was frightened. She actually sounded more like her normal self, her true self. She was alarmed and thrilled all by the use of one name.

Then it clicked. The boy's cheeks, his hair, and those big brown eyes all fell into place. There was no mistaking the constant flashbacks to Sam and Sophie. It was all written right there in the picture.

"He's your son," he realized aloud, "Isn't he?"

The image Nate received when he looked up was not the one he was expecting. Sophie was displaying no emotion and yet he could read her every thought like a book. Her eyes were wide but only slightly. Her mouth was cast downward and pressing into itself. Her muscles were flexing and her breathing seemed to stop. He struck the wrong key but it was the right answer.

"What's his name?" He asked. He was hoping that getting her to open up would work. Maybe if he got her to talk about her child they could move forward and reestablish their relationship. It had worked on him when she did it.

"I don't know," she lied, "I told you before that he was just some child we picked up for trafficking. We lend him out to the highest bidder for whatever purpose they want-"

"Don't give me the business version!" Nate yelled. He was starting to lose his temper and he had a horrendous feeling why. His jealousy was starting to get out of hand and pretty soon the grifter was going to pick up on it. Pretty soon he would be the victim instead. "I'm not going to hurt him. I'm just curious. I wasn't expecting you to-"

"To what?" Sophie countered, "Have feelings? Believe it or not, Mr. Ford, monsters can have children too!"

Well there was a surprise. She bit back and with venom too. Her voice was just dripping with danger and her every muscle was tensed for a fight. It was worse than when she thought he would rape her. They were about to reach a death match.

"So what if he's my child?" She continued, "Why does it matter? You're just going to try to use him as leverage so no matter my answer you will make your assumptions and act accordingly. I'm no more than a prisoner. Do what you've come to do and leave because I will give you no information on my husband or possible heirs!"

Nate stared at her and couldn't help the smile from falling off his face. Even in this cruel world she was able to surprise him. He should have expected her to act in a threatening manner and yet he was still surprised when she lost composure. She was his to shape and mold and she was putting up a better fight than ever before. If he didn't gain her trust soon everything would be lost.

He decided to act the way he usually did under the circumstances. He acted as if she had never been listening at all.

"As I said," he said, "I wasn't expecting you to have a son. I promise you that I won't hurt him but you won't believe me even though you can tell I'm telling the truth. That's fine. I'm only here to talk right now and since you've got nowhere to go what other choice do you have but to talk back?"

Sophie glared at him, crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at the challenge.

That's my girl, Nate thought to himself in joy. "Staying silent doesn't exactly help you con me into freeing you so I suggest you make this interesting," he said, "Or I could always leave you alone in the dark until you figure out that those windows are locked because they are attached to a forty-five story drop."

Sophie's eyes popped wide at that. It was surprise taking over her features this time. She was probably even wondering how he knew that was going to be her next escape attempt. The way she was chewing her bottom lip definitely indicated that to be true.

"Unless you think you can survive that kind of a fall," he shrugged.

The grifter huffed out a dramatic breath and considered her options. Then she rolled her eyes and finally decided on what she would do. She punched him in the nose and quickly proceeded to head to the door.

Nate jumped to his feet to chase after her and immediately regretted the movement. Blood poured from his nose as he rushed out of the bedroom towards the front door. He was already too late. Parker was holding the struggling grifter and showing no signs of relenting any time soon. Eliot was busy pushing a needle into her neck while the hacker checked to make certain she couldn't get out.

Nate rushed towards the grifter just as Parker released her. He caught the prone falling body and fell to the ground with her. He checked her pulse, relieved at the soft thumping beneath his fingertips. He quickly checked to make certain her breathing was working and then raised an angry glare his teammates' way.

He promptly ignored the looks of confusion and the questions of character. He just scooped the grifter into his arms and carried her back to her room. He took great care in tucking her under the covers. Then he quickly checked every single lock on the windows and air ducts. He left, closing the door behind him.

"You didn't have to drug her!" He growled.

Eliot gave him a scathing look. He picked up a towel and demanded the mastermind to take a seat. Then he started poking and prodding at the grifter's handy work.

"She broke your nose," he said, "and you're mad that we drugged her to keep her under control. What kind of a nut are you?"

"She wasn't going to leave," Nate sighed, "All you had to do was put her back in her room."

Eliot rolled his eyes at his nonsense. He quickly found a cotton ball and sprayed antiseptic on it. He applied it to the mastermind's nose and smiled at the hiss it elicited. "I don't know want kind of kidnapping you've done before but the goal is to keep the victim locked up and not give them free range," he said, "I don't know what you're plan is but it needs revising."

"I'm trying to con a grifter, Eliot," Nate replied, "Nothing about that is easy. You saw the way she flinched when we first brought her here. She's expecting to be tortured or worse. So I'm giving her kindness and hospitality. Doing the unexpected is the only advantage we have right now and pretty soon that will be gone."

"What did you say to set her off anyway?" Parker asked. There was a hint of concern in her voice but it was mostly too small to even really count. Her face was perfectly blank but she seemed genuinely impressed by the grifter's skill.

"I found her weakness," the mastermind shrugged.

Eliot stared at him with mouth opened wide. Hardison was just as surprised but he was a lot less silent about it.

"You gonna tell us what it is?" He demanded. There was an edge of greed to his voice. It had never been there when they worked together. It was as if he was here with another agenda. It was probably true too. The hacker was a young genius they took for granted far too often. It wouldn't be a surprise that that same problem would be true in this world.

"No," Nate said, "If I want to earn her trust I can't."

"A long con?" Eliot questioned. He sounded suddenly scandalized and impressed all in one. "That's your plan? You want to run game on the greatest grifter in history. You do realize that that's suicide right?"

"If it goes as planned, no." Nate smiled at the crazy looks he was receiving from his team members. "No, she's going to make sure of it."


	8. Plans

Nate stared at the hacker, ready. Hardison was poised and ready for the mastermind's order. Then the grifter's cellphone rang loud and clear for everybody to hear. The mastermind picked it up on the very first ring after checking the I.D. He couldn't take the chance of the man hanging up before he had a chance.

"Hello, Moreau," he said.

Hardison gave him the nod and pointed to his laptop. Not only was he tracking their mark, he was also moderating the mastermind's voice. There was no way Moreau would be able to trace them either. The hacker had even gone through the trouble of routing their call through Highpoint Tower's system. They were more than prepared for the next stage of their plan.

"Who is this?" Moreau's angry voice growled through the phone. His manner's thankfully seemed to have stayed exactly where they belonged.

"I've got your wife," Nate replied, "That's all you need to know right now."

"Whatever you want you won't get," Moreau replied sharply, "I know my wife. She's a handful. You'll be begging me to take her back in the end and when I do I will end you."

"No, that's what I'm going to do to you," Nate rolled his eyes. Parker giggled at that.

"I want twenty-three million dollars delivered to my account exactly one week from today," he explained, "That is next Friday at twelve thirty p.m. exactly. I'll even give you the benefit of within the thirty-two second mark it is currently at. Nod your head if you understand."

Eliot smirked at the image of Moreau on the six plasma screens. The man looked startled that they had the ability to control the video surveillance cameras around Los Angeles. He was visibly enraged by the fact that his position was known. He grimaced at the camera and carefully nodded his head.

"Good boy," Nate encouraged enjoying himself a little too much, "Now the money isn't all I want. I also want you to fire exactly one third of your corporation. Say yes if you understand that demand."

"Yes," Moreau's voice said sounding highly annoyed by the command.

"I suggest you fire the child prostitution ring," the mastermind continued, "Your wife doesn't seem to enjoy the idea of you getting your kicks from anybody not her."

"Isn't she excellent in bed?" Moreau hissed scornfully.

"Wouldn't know," Nate replied in a growl, "I'm not that kind of man. Talk again and you will have to give up another fifty percent of your business. And I'll take something else away from you besides your wife. Turn around in a clockwise circle if you understand."

The man did as instructed with a grumble and another roll of his eyes.

"Good," Nate smiled, "Now here's the kicker. You're going to deliver ten million dollars in non-sequential cash bills to the drop site address I give you. I will send this address when I receive the twenty-three million in the account I send you when we hang up. If you do not deliver the money and fire one third of your business you will never see your wife again. I will take you down and you will lose all of your power. You may ask one question to show you understand."

"You're going to give me my wife when I drop off the ten million, yes?" He asked.

"Naturally," Nate nodded, "but only after you do everything else understand. If you go back on your word you will suffer tenfold. I'm warning you, Moreau. Do not double cross me. You will not like what I do in response. Understand?"

"I understand," Moreau replied, "I want proof of life."

"And you will have it," Nate agreed, "but only when I give it to you. Be expecting a check-up of your movements within the next forty-eight hours."

The mastermind hung up the phone and quickly shot off a text to the bank account Hardison gave him. He then watched as Moreau struggled to compose himself. The man immediately started dialing numbers. He ignored the text message and looked very unpleasant as he spoke.

"That went well," Parker commented simply.

"Why did you only ask for thirty-three million dollars?" Hardison asked softly, "There are four of us."

"I only need three million," Nate shrugged, "The non-sequential dollars in cash are for Parker. You two will split the wire transfer."

"Why don't you want any money?" Parker asked, "I mean you're doing the planning. Don't you want a piece of the pie?"

"We're not going to give Moreau his wife," Nate explained, "We're going to end him. We just need him to think it's just a simple ransom."

"So the money's a distraction?" Hardison questioned in surprise, "Poetic."

"And you will be getting a lot more money," Nate nodded, "We just have to work at Moreau a little at a time."

"That's going to take months, man," Hardison complained.

"Then you better start working," the mastermind suggested, "Eliot and Parker, I'm going to need the two of you to start making plans for infiltration in several of the world's top security systems. I want several contingency plans for going up against a Steranko. Hardison, locate every single one of Moreau's grunt workers."

"And what are you going to do?" Eliot demanded briskly.

"I'm going to go talk to our guest," he replied taking a bottle of scotch and two glasses with him.

The three thieves watched their mastermind close the door behind him. They all looked at each other with different degrees of interest and surprise on their faces. They couldn't understand why he was so interested in the Black Queen of Death. They also didn't care. If he wanted to get himself killed he was free to do it. They didn't care.

Sophie… no Charlotte Moreau was once again sitting seductively on the bed. This time Nate was prepared for the game she would be playing. He politely showed her the bottle and two glasses. Then he poured them each a drink.

"You thirsty?" He asked, "It's pretty high quality scotch. Only the best for you really."

"I'm not a big fan," Charlotte replied, "but I can see you are."

"I'm an alcoholic," Nate smiled, "Good call."

"Do you normally inform people of your weaknesses so easily?" She asked taking the proffered glass as she spoke.

The mastermind ignored the gibe and instead observed the grifter. She did nothing more than sniff at the drink before her eyes were on him. She was expecting some sort of drug in her drink. Clearly she wasn't new to this lovely game. Somehow that only made the mastermind feel more anger towards Damien Moreau. She should have never known what it was like to suffer.

"I figured it was only fair," he whispered into her ear.

The shiver that ran up her spine only worried him more. It was only a soft tremor that could be felt in close proximity. The temperature around her changed to freezing and her eyes sparked with anger. She was reeling for a strike. So the mastermind took his life into his hands and calmly placed a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Relax," he cooed, "I'm not going to hurt your son."

She didn't say a word. She didn't even react to the way he spoke about her son. Instead she took a giant gulp of the drink and even poured herself another. She refilled his glass while she was at it. Of course he couldn't resist one small jab.

"That's something your husband would do."

The look he received was interesting to say the least. His glass was taken into her mouth as punishment. Then she poured herself another glass and started showing just how much alcohol she could imbibe. He removed the temptation before she could get at it.

"No," he said, "You are not allowed to get drunk. That's my job, remember?"

That made her angry.

"What do you want?" She hissed.

Her left hand was on his lapel and her breath buzzed with alcohol. It was such a familiar scent that the mastermind couldn't help but be lured by her bait. Her breath was hot on his skin before he managed to snap himself out. He shook his head like he was in a daze. The evil smile on her face told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Was he sad?" She asked, "On the phone. Did he sound completely distraught over my kidnapping?"

Nate turned away from her oncoming rant. Instead he picked up the scotch and dumped it into the sink. Then he burst into laughter at the irony. He was dumping alcohol to stop her from being drunk. If his version of her was there she would appreciate it. She'd laugh and tease him relentlessly. Then they would kiss and the night would never end. Now she was glaring at him for the spilt alcohol. And she hated him for it.

"Or did he sound relieved?" She finished softly, "After all with my death he is free to reign."

"You're the mother of his child," Nate replied.

"All the more reason for my death," she smiled, "He doesn't want me to turn that young mind against him. I'm the only one who can."

"Why would you turn your son against his father?" the mastermind demanded softly.

She looked him straight in the eyes with that cold smile still firmly plastered on her face.

"Why would you voluntarily kidnap a monster?" she asked.

The smile on her face grew into a chilling laugh. She literally enjoyed the misery written so clearly on his face. She loved the horror and hatred he experienced because of her husband. The evil she had performed thrilled her beyond no compare. Sophie Devereaux really was gone forever.

"He's going to kill you if I don't," Nate gasped, "He's going to blame me no matter what happens next."

"Your hands will be just as red as mine," Charlotte nodded at his realization, "Why not dip them fully into the blood?"

Her lips were on him in an instant. The alcohol buzzed in his mind and all he could feel was his grifter's soft skin again. But the image flashing in his mind was nothing compared to what he felt. He felt used and weak. All of the anger he felt at Moreau was bubbling faster and faster to the surface. Something was wrong.

He pushed her away and stared into her black, soulless eyes. She smirked at the lust she could so obviously read within him. He slammed her roughly against the wall. Her whimper of pain was quickly masked with another giggle of evil. He hated that sound so he devoured it with his lips. He hissed at the taste. Her kiss was wrong.

"No," he shook his head.

She watched him with anger as he backed away. The hatred on her face was evident now. Her plan was foiled and she was not happy about it.

"No?" She questioned, "What do you mean no?"

"I didn't before," he replied, "I won't now. Not even for you."

He opened the door and silently mourned the woman he used to know. He felt the anger build in his stomach until all that was left was longing.

"It's a shame you will always be waiting," he sighed. Then he closed the door behind him.

The sound of shattering glass showed exactly what she thought of that. Her plan had failed and he was one step closer to his plan coming to fruition. Moreau was going to pay… for everything.

"Moreau's not going to meet our demands," he called off, "Time to teach him that we mean business."

"What are we going to do?" Eliot asked bitterly, "Are you going to assault his wife?"

"No," Nate smiled, "I'm going to do one better. We're going to take out one of his men."

"Who?" Hardison asked typing away as he spoke.

"The President of San Lorenzo," the mastermind replied.


	9. A Deal Made

"San Lorenzo?" The hitter asked softly.

"San Lorenzo," the mastermind repeated.

"What's San Lorenzo?" Parker demanded of the two.

Eliot took a deep breath and rocked back on his heels. He stepped back in defense and tried to create as much space as possible. Then he reopened his eyes and glared daggers into his boss.

"It's Moreau's pocket country," he explained, "His back-up plan should anything go south. He'll run to San Lorenzo where there are no extradition treaties and he's free to rebuild his empire. He'll wait out the warrants for his arrest and come back twice as strong."

"It's a little island located in the Mediterranean," Nate finished for him, "and it's the perfect place to start. If we overthrow the government…"

"We'll have complete access to Moreau," Hardison realized with a gasp, "He'd be completely defenseless against any attacks. We'd be free to turn him in and then some."

"But how are we going to make him run?" Eliot demanded harshly.

"We frame him," Nate explained softly, "with the murder of his wife and the attempted kidnapping of his son."

"Son?" Hardison gasped, "He's got a son? Are you telling me evil people are actually born? They don't just come up out of the ground!"

"So that's the little weakness you found," Eliot huffed, "I should have known."

The thief seemed to be the only one who didn't have a thing to say. An argument started, naturally, as the hacker and hitter came up with many scenarios for how everything could go wrong. They didn't notice the bright glow in the thief's eyes. They were completely blind to her look of glee. So it was no surprise to the mastermind when she startled the others with a simple stunt. She merely flipped onto the table and sat herself directly in the mastermind's bubble. Then she opened her mouth and voiced her opinion on his plan.

"How?" She asked.

"It's simple really," Nate explained, "You and Eliot are going to work on a smear campaign while Hardison and I destroy Moreau here. You two will pull out all of the stops to win the election for the opponent with most promise against Ribera. Then you will both report to me when the country is won."

"Are we going to kill anybody?" The thief questioned in excitement. She even clapped her hands together and did a back flip off of the kitchen island. Her broken interior still showed her strength from time to time.

"NO," the mastermind replied, "but you're going to win Michael Vittori the election."

"And how are we going to do that?" Eliot asked in amazement, "I know the guy. He's just a school teacher who can't even speak up to General Flores, who was killed during the last election by the way. How are we going to turn him into a leader?"

"Teach him how to be one," Nate supplied, "You have one week. I suggest you work on ruining Ribera while you train him up."

"And what are you going to be doing?" Parker demanded fiercely, "We shouldn't do all the work while Hardison is here having fun."

"Hardison's going to make me look like Moreau."

The hacker jumped at that.

"Hardison's doing what?" He asked, "Excuse you but do you have any idea how difficult it's going to be to make you look like a bad guy. Why am I even doing it anyway?"

"So I can pretend to kill So… somebody's wife," Nate explained, "We're going to make it look like Mrs. Moreau wanted out of the game. We're going to make it look like she filed for divorce and custody of the child. She's going to officially separate and take her son; his name is Sam by the way, out of there. Then we are going to make it look like Moreau had her axed so the F.B.I. will have a reason to catch him."

"Why the kidnapping charge if we're getting him for murder?" Hardison demanded in confusion.

"Because kidnapping is something that can't be swept under the rug," Eliot supplied, "Nobody's going to care of Charlotte Moreau is dead. She's not a nice person but their child is innocent. It shows weakness on Moreau's part and also establishes a target a mile wide on his back."

"Even if he's cleared of the charges," Nate finished, "He will still go down. All we have to do is make the case as public as possible."

"And with the internet we can," Hardison grinned.

"I like this plan," Parker smiled in agreement, "but how are we going to get her to agree to it?"

"We promise immunity for her and her son," Nate explained, "We'll give her the clean slate to start anew somewhere safe. She already wants out. I'm just giving her a reason to do it."

"How do you know she won't raise the kid to be just like his father?" Eliot asked.

"I don't," Nate huffed. Then he took a deep breath and tried to stamp out the jealousy filling his every breath. "Hardison-"

"They just finished printing," the hacker supplied, "All they need is the information and I can do the rest."

"What are we going to do with the kid?" Eliot demanded softly.

"We're going to make certain he gets back to his mother," the mastermind shouted over his shoulder.

He immediately raced towards the printer and removed the stack of papers. He grabbed a couple of pens as a precaution for one of them not working. Then he slowly approached the grifter's room. He knew he was losing his team's respect with the constant visit to their guest but he couldn't help it. Even if she wasn't Sophie Devereaux he was still drawn to her. The intelligence inside that pretty head was still just as enthralling as ever. It was even sharpened by the knowledge of evil she had learned under Moreau's guidance. He was going to have to be mean in his approach.

He twisted the doorknob and wasn't even surprised by what he saw. Charlotte was dressed in lingerie and nothing else. She struck a seductive pose against the wall by her desk. There was a brush in her hand and the lights to the desk mirror were on. Her food from lunch still lay on her bed completely untouched. Her smile was still a self-satisfied smirk.

Nate didn't even bother to stop for idle chit chat this time around. He just threw his tiny stack of papers on the table right in front of the grifter. He watched as her eyes narrowed and her hair was whipped back. Then he waited for a field of cold black to fill his vision.

"Sign them," he ordered.

"What are they?" She demanded, not even bothering to take a peek.

"Divorce papers," he explained, "I need you to sign them with the name you used when the two of you got married."

"And why would I do that?" Charlotte demanded coyly.

"Dammit Lara, just sign the damn papers!"

Smack! The grifter's hand collided with his cheek in spectacular motion. The mastermind grimaced in pain at his mistake and felt his head reel at the hard contact. She had gotten more powerful with those since the last time she slapped him. Of course, in this world power was her only goal.

"What did you call me?" She demanded.

Nate stopped at that voice. He remembered that voice. It was pure and innocent. It was raw with emotion. He heard the slight lilt of Cockney in her musical voice. The ice had thawed. Bells were ringing and music was singing in that voice. For just a tiny moment he had the woman he cherished returned to him and it was fantastic. Sophie was still in there.

"Lara," he replied stepping forward with renewed interest.

"Where did you hear that name?" She growled, but fear was evident in her voice. She sounded downright terrified by the fact that he knew that name, her name.

"It's your real name, isn't it?" He pushed enjoying the power switch a little too much.

"Nobody knows that name," she hissed. Then she slammed a hand into his shoulder. "Who are you to know that name?"

She repeated that question several more times. Then she cursed him and swatted at him with renewed vigor. She was screaming and fighting against him. Tears were staining her soft, olive cheeks as she continued to struggle against the one word he whispered towards her again and again. Finally she managed to gain enough control over herself to push him away. She found her clothes and stared at them.

"Go away," she whimpered.

"I'm staying," he argued, "Hardison worked very hard on those forms and I don't want him to have to print out some more."

The grifter spun around with hatred on her features; her narrowed, black eyes shown with anger and vengeance. Everything about her displayed nothing but ill thoughts towards the man she used to love. It was gut-wrenching to say the least.

"What did he do to you?" She demanded bitterly, "What did my husband do to make you so invested in our doom? Why are you doing this? How do you know my name?"

"I told you I had a son," Nate answered to both of their surprise.

The grifter nodded, her mind whirling behind those cold eyes.

"I lost him," Nate continued, "but I didn't tell you how."

"Was it my husband?" she asked. There was a slight hint of hesitation and fear in her voice. "Did he… did we sell him away?"

"No," Nate shook his head, "Cancer. Sam died of cancer at the age of eight. You had nothing to do with it."

"Is that what spurs you on?" Charlotte demanded briskly, "Your life was ruined so everybody must suffer."

"I had a team once," Nate supplied, "a hitter, hacker, thief and a grifter."

"The three in there," Charlotte guessed.

"Similar but different," the mastermind nodded.

"What happened to them?" she asked.

"A job gone wrong put me in a bad place," Nate replied, "My thief was put into the hospital with nothing but broken bones and an inch of life in her. My hitter couldn't stand to be in the same hospital and my hacker wouldn't leave."

"Why are you telling me this?" Charlotte demanded bitterly, "What do I care about a bunch of thieves playing Robin Hood."

"Sophie Devereaux," he said.

The grifter's expression showed no signs of recognition. The name was completely unfamiliar to her ears. She really had never known the woman he spoke of and that was disheartening. Of course she was the best so she could have been faking. But her eyes didn't tell the same tale as her face. She was genuinely interested in the way he said that name, her real name.

"You asked me why I'm targeting your husband," Nate explained, "That's why. He took her away from me and destroyed every inch of her. That's why I took you."

"I remind you of her?" Charlotte guessed.

"I thought you were just as precious to him," the mastermind nodded.

"Well you thought wrong," Charlotte said rolling her eyes as she spoke, "Did my husband take a special interest in your grifter? I'm assuming she's the grifter of your little band."

"She was," Nate agreed, "but she's gone now so it doesn't matter."

"Did my husband take a special interest?"

Her voice had dropped back to ice again. There was no love or hurt in it, only scorn. She was more than aware of her husband's habits and she settled for it anyway. She allowed him to break his vows to her because it maintained the power between them. She didn't care about the pain her captor was going through. No, she cared about getting even and where it would be. It was something her husband would do.

"Yes," Nate growled, "a very special interest. He squashed out every ounce of her and then he cast her to the side like she was nothing."

"Is she still alive?" Charlotte asked in a business tone.

"If you can call it living," the mastermind answered.

"What guarantee do I have for my son's safety?" She questioned bitterly, "If I sign those papers will he be protected?"

"What is your price to get you to join us instead?" Nate asked with a cold smile on his face.

"My son," Charlotte stated simply, "Give me my son and I will be whatever you want. My loyalty has always been to my son."

Nate stuck out his hand and waited for the shake. Charlotte eyed it carefully and then nodded her head. They both shook on the dark bargain they made.

"Deal," Nate finished unnecessarily, "Your son will always be yours. I just hope you teach him how to be better than his father."

Charlotte laughed and signed the papers as she went.

"Bring my son to me and I'll let you have a say."


	10. Committing Murder

"Alright Eliot," the mastermind called, "How are you and Parker doing?"

Eliot stared at the puppy in his arms. It was currently licking his cheeks and trying to make a home with him. And it was working. He was really becoming a softie. He blamed Ford for it too.

"I just pulled off the dog fighting scam," the hitter reported dutifully, "It's all up to the people of San Lorenzo now."

"And the tunnels?" Nate asked.

"I'm currently taking care of them now, sir," Parker explained, "Would you like me to use explosives during the initial attack?"

"No Parker," Nate ordered with a smile on his face, "Not yet. I want you to save them as a back-up plan though. Just break out all of the war criminals and make certain Ribera can't kill our new president."

"How are you and Hardison doing?" Eliot asked softly.

"Well, Mrs. Moreau isn't exactly being cooperative but everything else is ready," Nate sighed, "The divorce papers just need to be planted and we're working on the frame-up now."

"I still don't see why I have to be here!" Charlotte hollered.

She was currently sitting in the armchair in the middle of the room. The curtains had been drawn to make it seem like she wanted privacy. They had planted all the signs of somebody on the run. Now all they had to do was make it appear like that somebody was dying.

"Call me before your flight back," Nate advised clicking the phone shut as he spoke.

"You know the plan," he said.

Charlotte nodded and folded her arms across her chest. Her glare would have been a thousand car bombs and a full machine gun aimed solely at his chest if it were a weapon. She wasn't happy but her weakness was greater than her assets. Besides with her husband taken care of she was free to do whatever she wanted. It was a win-win really.

"Come here," he beckoned, "It's time for you to die."

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the statement. She gruffly huffed a long sigh and continued sitting. She made no move to do as told. The stubborn woman just stared at him expectantly. She didn't even bother to uncross her arms or legs. So Nate decided to improvise.

The mastermind rushed towards the woman and picked her up by her armpits. She struggled of course but surprise was on his side. He pushed her up against the closed curtains and set her down. The look of petulance on her face was hilarious.

"You bastard," she complained slapping him as she did it, "What do you have to make me do this?"

"It's the only way to give you your son," Nate hissed at her, "Or do you want him to be raised by an orphanage because both of his parents are in prison?"

"You wouldn't dare," she howled, "I didn't do anything to your precious Sophie Devereaux!"

"No," Nate agreed sarcastically, "You just had a son with the bastard who took her away from me! You don't even care about the fact that he cheats on you on a regular basis. What kind of marriage is that anyway?"

"It's called a business agreement," she said rolling her eyes, "We both have our affairs."

"You're not the type to cheat," the mastermind growled, "You did when you were younger but not now."

"You really did your research didn't you?" Charlotte sighed, "I'm not going to make this easy on you."

"Good," Nate nodded, "That will only make it more convincing."

Then he grabbed the grifter's neck and pressed her into the window. He grinned at the defiance shining in her eyes. She went into action immediately despite herself. Her left arm shot up and snapped his head back. Then she followed with a quick roundhouse kick. Unfortunately he was prepared for it. He caught up her swinging leg and pulled her towards him. He grabbed her shoulder and scooped her into the air. Then he slammed her onto the ground because she punched him in the solar plexus. She lay there stunned and he lowered himself to grab onto her neck again. She kicked him in the wrong place and rolled away.

"Nice," Nate groaned.

"I never said I'd fight fair," Charlotte said as she rushed towards the door at full speed.

She gasped in surprise when the mastermind blocked her exit. He grinned at her and caught her flying hand. He bent it behind her back and slammed her into the wall. The grifter groaned at the harsh treatment and went for the knee. Nate just moved out of the way and watched her fall forward at the miscalculation. Charlotte used her momentum to roll into a standing position. Then the two continued their little struggle for dominance.

"You're not bad," she reported regretfully, "But you're not going to win."

"Yes I am," he laughed.

"How can you be so sure?" Charlotte demanded angrily.

"I can't afford to lose," Nate replied.

That was when they both went into action. She jumped to kick him and he jumped to get her on the floor. They both collided in the air and fell as expected. Pain flared through every ounce of the mastermind's body but he ignored it. He wrapped his arms around the grifter's tiny, soft, delicate neck and pretended to squeeze tight. Charlotte stared at him and continued to fight against him. Eventually she just stopped. Her eyes went blank and she stopped breathing altogether. The mastermind's heart dropped.

"No!" He shouted in pain.

He pulled the grifter up and shook her. She made no move so he brought her lips to his ear. There was no air coming from her wonderful lips. He delicately placed her back on the floor and quickly checked her pulse. He sighed in relief at the harsh throb beneath his fingertips.

"You bitch," he cursed.

Charlotte giggled and flashed him a smile. Her eyes glowed with warmth and turned chocolate. Nate's breath hitched at how much she looked like his Sophie in that moment. Her smile wasn't cold for once. Her laugh was musical and she actually was enjoying her time with him. If he closed his eyes he could almost picture being home.

"You make it too easy," she chided. Then she kneed him in the leg and giggled louder when he fell on top of her.

"Good lord you're almost as bad as Maggie," Nate sighed.

"Maggie?" Charlotte asked tilting her head in confusion.

"My ex-wife," he replied. Then he closed his eyes in frustration.

"What's the matter?" The grifter demanded. Her voice was suddenly sultry and her arms were moving up and down his back with obvious intention. Her lips were inches away from his ear and her perfume filled his senses as planned.

"I'm not interested in you, Charlotte," he hissed pulling away as he spoke. He picked up a bottle of whiskey and stood in front of the door. He glared at the play.

"You're lying again," she admonished, "You should really stop doing that. Maybe I'm not as bad as you keep making me out to be. You don't have to protect yourself-"

"From you?" Nate finished for her in a growl, "No, you're just trying to con me into giving you information. Everything to you is a con, isn't it? I bet you think the fact that I'm not trying to seduce you is a con."

"Don't even pretend it isn't," she hissed, "You may have your little team fooled, Mr. Ford, but you can't con me. You and are I exactly the same."

"We are not the same!" Nate shouted, "You and I are nothing alike."

"Who are you trying to con?" Charlotte demanded bitterly, "Everything you do is calculated, even the things you share. You're using your past to get me to open up."

"The only reason you allow it is for your son," Nate countered.

"Because I know you're going to kill him," she shrieked.

"I would never hurt an innocent child!"

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Believe it!"

"Make me!"

"Dammit Lara!" Nate screamed towards the woman, "Why are you doing this?"

"How did you learn my name?" Charlotte asked, "How did you gain all of your information? I burned it all!"

"You're an easy read," he replied. Then he took off his tie and wrapped it around her eyes.

"No peaking," he ordered.

When the blindfold was removed they were back in Charlotte's favorite apartment. The mastermind was putting his tie back where it belonged and there was food in the corner. A bottle of wine was on a table with two plates set and ready for use.

"What's this?" She asked.

Nate laughed. "I figured that you can watch me assemble dinner tonight so you know it isn't poisoned," he said, "You haven't been eating."

"And you think I'll eat this just because you make it in front of me?"

"Why do you think I'm eating it?" Nate shot back.

Dinner was made with little to no comment. Well, there were a few questions shared between them but a comfortable silence was finally theirs to share. They ate as soon as the food was finished. Charlotte gave a more than appropriate moan of pleasure at the food's taste and the mastermind smiled at the accomplishment. He had purposely prepared her favorite dish because he knew she couldn't refuse it.

"Where's that hacker of yours?" Charlotte asked softly, "Hardison I believe his name is."

"He's finalizing the footage of your death," Nate replied, "and then he's going to plant evidence that your son was in the room with us. It will be delivered to the police tomorrow."

"He's going to need proof of life in order for your con to work," she explained, "I heard that you promised him one within forty-eight hours. You have exactly three left."

Nate held up his cell phone and handed it to the grifter. He quickly gathered the dishes and cleared off the table. He placed them in the sink and shooed her to her room. The grifter stood there holding onto the phone and trying to comprehend what was going on.

"You don't want to make certain I don't give away our position or anything?" Charlotte demanded in confusion.

"I trust you," Nate replied.

The look he received was quite entertaining. The grifter looked as though he had grown fifty million heads. She waited for him to take the phone away. Sixty-two seconds later she finally realized what he said was true. Then she shrugged and headed towards her room to talk to her husband and prove that she was indeed alive.


	11. Interesting

When the grifter returned it was to a full room. The hacker was carrying a DVD and a large packet of paper. He had files stacked neatly upon the kitchen counter and his computer was beneath his fingertips. The thief was fiddling with a few padlocks, each and every one of them unlocking and locking within her hands. The hitter was unconsciously scooting her feet away from the food he was preparing. An entire meal meant for five was boiling in a pan while he sliced, diced and filleted away.

The mastermind's bright blue eyes followed the grifter as she observed the team's interactions. He watched as she absorbed the information and filed it away for later. The surprise on her features quickly disappeared when her black eyes registered he was watching. She gave him a flirty wink and dared to walk towards him. Nate met her half-way, both ignoring the looks coming from the other three.

"Here's your phone back," she said with a warm smile on her face.

The mastermind took the phone and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Then he motioned towards the dinner table.

"Will you help me set the table?" He asked.

The grifter flashed him a playful smile and immediately nodded in agreement. Together they set places for every single person in the household, the brunette woman having the seat furthest away from the door and perfectly surrounded by everybody else. Eliot plated their food with a quick flick and flourish of his wrist. Then they dug-in to a noteworthy meal. The air was heavy and filled with tension. But nobody complained about their captive dining with them.

"So does this mean we can let her out of the room all the time now?" Parker questioned softly.

The hitter and hacker stiffened. All eyes moved towards the mastermind for an answer. The grifter just continued to eat her food as if nothing had ever happened. The meal from before was obviously not enough. She had been skipping meals too much and was working on catching up. That would have to stop before she made herself sick.

"If she behaves," Nate replied. Then he turned his attention towards the grifter beside him. "You should probably stop eating now. You'll get sick if you keep going."

Charlotte's eyes grew dark with anger at his words. She sent him a glare that would have killed any normal man. Then she dropped her fork, pushed away from the table and bowed her head. Eliot stood and took care of the grifter's plate while she waited for orders.

"You can go to your room whenever you wish," the mastermind explained. He picked up his and the hitter's dishes to take care of them as well.

The thief and hacker watched as the grifter eyed the door. Hardison sent glares her way while Parker observed her constant exit assessment. Charlotte stood to her feet, taking two steps towards the door. Then she took a breath, twirled around and went straight into her designated bedroom.

"She's house trained," Parker giggled, "Nate, can we keep her?"

"It's just one job, Parker," Eliot growled from his position at the kitchen sink.

Nate smiled and chuckled at the familiar phrase. His team was still the same when it came to denying what they enjoy. They refused to admit that they enjoyed working together. It was just like old times.

"She's not a dog, Parker," Hardison added for good measure, "She's the Queen of Evil. We don't keep evil people on our team."

"Are we a team?" The thief demanded softly, "Teams eat together, right? I mean we're hanging out and everything."

"Yes, Parker," Nate replied, "We are a team."

"A temporary team," the hacker called.

"Just this one job," the hitter agreed.

"Agreed," Parker nodded, "Unless Nate can find us another job."

"I could maybe find a few," the mastermind smiled at the thief.

"I would like to just be paid for this one first," Hardison grumbled, "I'm only doing this one because the Moreau's have information I need."

Nate stared at the hacker in surprise. The young man's voice had changed completely. It sounded vicious, haunted by dark events of the past. There was even a twinge of hatred in that once sweet voice. He almost sounded like he wanted revenge in the worst possible way.

"What information?" He asked.

The hacker darted down to hide away. It was his tell that he felt guilty. He just turned to his computer and pretended to fiddle with it. He wasn't really fooling the mastermind though. His work was already finished.

"Hardison," Nate sighed, "Who did they take?"

The hacker's sad eyes turned to him. Guilt covered his features and he looked downright terrified. There was even a subtle touch of regret.

"My Nana," he explained, "They took her because I stole money from them a long time ago. Charlotte was the one who informed me."

"Is this going to be a problem, buddy?" Eliot demanded softly. He was the expert on what Moreau would do. He knew each and every scenario Nana would experience as punishment.

"Naw," Hardison replied, "I just need information."

"You'll get it," Nate promised, "but not now. She's not going to do anything until she has her son. We'll give him to her and you'll find out everything you need to know. Moreau's downfall will give us everything."

"You still think she'll turn with her husband gone?" Parker asked.

"She's already half-way there," the mastermind replied, "You've seen the way she's changed already."

"Yeah, she's not throwing herself at you anymore," the thief giggled.

"And she hasn't made a move to leave," Eliot agreed.

"She kidnapped my Nana within an hour of me hacking into her mainframe and stealing ten thousand dollars from her account," Hardison growled, "She's also the best damn grifter in history. We can't know if she's changed."

"You're right," Nate nodded, "We can't until her husband's gone."

"So what do you want to do about it?" Parker asked.

"Take out her husband and worry about the rest later," the mastermind replied, "I promised you a lot of money and the take down of a century. That's our first priority. Turning Charlotte Moreau is second."

The team broke apart to do their own separate things. They had absolutely no idea what kind of hole in their plan was about to develop.


	12. Anger, Betrayal and Grief

It was the next day when the manure hit the fan.

Nate had just delivered the Moreau files to an old friend. Pat Bonano was probably sitting at his desk right now completely unaware of the delivery on its way. He was about to get the career bust of a lifetime.

The mastermind smiled at the way things were coming together. He nodded to the hitter preparing food and took note of the thief's shaking head. Lately she had taken it upon herself to sit on the beam directly across from the grifter's door. She seemed completely enthralled by the woman's interaction during her capture. She was even thoroughly impressed. Apparently some things would never change.

The hacker was clicking through the channels. He had been nervous around the others since he revealed his secret. He was expecting somebody to use that weakness against him. But nobody seemed interested and he was starting to relax. Well, he at least knew the mastermind wasn't going to use the information against him.

That was when everything went into action. A mysterious headline through the flickering channels caught the mastermind's attention.

"Stop," he ordered.

The hacker immediately turned to the indicated channel. Then he increased the volume.

"A mysterious house fire in downtown L.A. has police baffled," the reported explained, "The wife of Insurance Investigator James Sterling has been confirmed as being dead while the children are still missing. We've got more information for you after these messages."

All eyes were on the mastermind with different layers of confusion. Nate ignored them all and focused on the name, James Sterling's wife. Maggie was dead and the fire was mysterious. It was a message, a very painful message.

Nate ripped through the grifter's bedroom with anger crowding his emotions. He glared daggers at the woman sitting innocent on the bed. She was blinking her eyes as if she had just wakened. Except; she wasn't fooling him.

"How did you know?" He demanded harshly. He couldn't keep the betrayal out of his voice but every other emotion was perfectly gone.

"Know what?" She asked. The hum of victory was in her cold, harsh voice. She even sounded amused by his reaction.

"How did you figure out who my ex-wife was?" He growled towards her.

"You've got an ex-wife?" Eliot questioned in shock. Apparently he had followed him in. That was good. He would prevent anything too violent from happening.

Charlotte delicately pulled out a wallet and grinned.

"I found her picture," she explained, "and the one of your little boy. The rest was easy."

"I didn't have her name on the picture," Nate told her. His voice was slowing dropping octaves. He was starting to sound dangerous because the anger was consuming him. Eliot obviously didn't realize it either because he was still watching the grifter. He didn't know who the real danger was.

"I have my ways."

Nate fought against his instinct to wipe the smile off her face. He recognized that move but never had it been so evil. She was smiling at him like she had won, like she smiled at her marks. And then it hit him.

"You took a picture of it and sent it to your husband," he realized, "You've got a phone. That's how you did it."

"How?" Eliot asked, "We kept all eyes on her."

"Hardison's phone has facial recognition installed in it," Charlotte replied, "All I had to do was fill in the blanks."

Nate stared at the woman with pure hatred in his veins. He didn't see Sophie Devereaux in her anymore. All he saw was an enemy who enjoyed killing. Then she blew his last fuse.

"Was it a mysterious fire like usual?" She asked, "Or did he actually make it interesting?"

"You bitch," he howled in disgust, "You're going to pay!"

Then the mastermind did the unthinkable. He grabbed her by the neck and threw her into the bed. He slammed his body on top of hers, effectively pinning her legs. Then he used his right hand to hold her arms above her head. His left hand began to roam all over her body.

"Nate, stop!" The hitter called.

But the mastermind refused to stop. Fury and betrayal had filled his senses. He was going on nothing but blind rage. So he kissed her while his hand explored. She was shaking under his fingertips and a smile appeared on his features.

"I win," he growled.

He was sitting above her now with a smuggled cellphone in his hands. His smile was cold and evil, he knew. It was her eyes that told him so. Her big, brown frightened eyes were filled with fear. The slight smirk on her lips though, showed just how impressed at his skill she was. But anger was driving the mastermind.

He grabbed her hair and slammed her into the bed. Then he placed his lips directly beside her ear.

"You should stop making me angry," he whispered.

Then he moved so he could see the fear in her eyes. Defiance was staring him back but the fear was still there. That was all that mattered.

"Or I will go after your son next," he finished.

The grifter struggled against him as hard as she could. She kicked up her knees and screamed at the top of her lungs. Tears sprang from her eyes as she struggled for her child's protection. It was such a Sophie Devereaux move that the mastermind was instantly snapped out of his funk. Guilt consumed his soul as he jumped off of the grifter. He took the cellphone and raced out of the room. He found the balcony and immediately went to it. He needed air.

He wasn't aware of the hitter until the younger man was right beside him. Eliot's eyes were boring into him while his attention was on the phone. He took deep, calming breaths and tried to contain the fury. He needed a clear head in order to keep going.

"They're probably tracing the phone," the hitter pointed out.

Nate dropped the phone in reply. He watched it twirl, somersault and flip towards the ground. Then it smacked the sidewalk, scattering into tiny bits and pieces.

"Not anymore," the mastermind replied.

A silence enveloped between them. It was hot and heavy with tension. He could feel the hitter's many questions floating around in his head. Nate just focused on his breathing and thinking about calming things. Misery seemed to be his only companion though as all of his thoughts landed on his time with his grifter, his Sophie Devereaux.

"You want to tell me why you freaked out back there?" The hitter asked.

Nate sighed.

"I tried not to," he admitted softly.

The hitter's eyebrows rising into his hair showed how surprised he was by the answer. He hadn't been expecting one. He asked to measure the problem. Instead he was getting honesty and he looked thoroughly impressed.

"I was just so angry and the grief," Nate struggled for the perfect word to describe it, "took over."

"I'm sorry for your loss," the hitter replied.

"I'm sorry I lost control like that," the mastermind said, "I shouldn't make your job as difficult as I do. I'm going to change that. I promise."

"Why are you doing this?" Eliot asked, "You know about my past with Moreau. Hardison's got his Nana to worry about. Hell, Parker's just doing this out of boredom, I guess. But what about you?"

Nate stayed silent at the hitter's question. He wasn't trying to avoid the answer. He was only trying to decide how much to tell him. He didn't even know how much to tell him. It was very difficult to explain. How do he tell his best friend that he was from a world where they were a family and their captive was his girlfriend?

The hitter thought the silence meant there was no answer. He sighed deeply and started to pull away from the railing. He made it to the French doors when the mastermind was ready to answer.

"Sophie Devereaux," he said.

He felt Eliot turn around at the name. The curiosity was starting to bounce off of him.

"What?"

"Sophie Devereaux," Nate explained, "That's why."

"What happened?"

"Moreau took her away from me," the mastermind sighed, "and changed her."

"Changed her how?"

Nate closed his eyes and begged the world to change around him. He breathed through the memories of Sam's death and grimaced at Maggie's smiling face. Then the laughter of his team, his real team, filled his ears and he was done. His hands rolled into fists as the grifter reappeared. Her fabulous smile and the way she would stop a room ruled his mind. He was a goner.

"She's now a lethal weapon in his arsenal that can be used whenever he wants," he replied.

"Not Charlotte-?" Eliot gasped.

"No," Nate lied, "Not Charlotte."

"Then what are we going to do?"


	13. Decide

Nate walked into the grifter's bedroom cautiously. He was still cooling down from his earlier outburst but he was prepared for it now. He knew Charlotte's play and he was not going to let her get away with this. He was going to bring Sophie back one way or the other.

"Come to finish the job?" Charlotte growled.

Her stance was unwelcoming this time around. Her voice was dripping with disgust. Her black eyes were watchful and waiting. She was no longer the happy captive. Now she was the woman they held prisoner who had all the power. She was the one everybody should be wary of.

"I'm sorry about that," Nate apologized, a surprise for everyone. "You played me well. My temper got the best of me. I promise it won't happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Ford," Charlotte retorted.

_Too late_, Nate thought sadly. "Let's stop pretending and get straight down to business," he replied, "You like doing that after all."

Charlotte grinned at the smart man. She held up the phone and started browsing through it.

"It's not as handy as Mr. Hardison's but it still gets the job done," she remarked, "How come you don't have any pictures in it?"

"Pictures lead the police to me," he explained, "Nothing personal can be kept there."

"You still have her name," she realized.

There was a weird look on her face as she stared at the name that once belonged to her. She even pressed a light finger to it. Her eyes softened a bit and her lips did a tiny tilt up. She looked as though she was fighting the smile that wanted to form.

"Why is she still saved into your phone?"

Nate focused on the name and tried not to let the pain show. He had forgotten all about it. He was so wrapped up in this alternate universe that he completely forgot about his grifter's phone number being in there. Now she probably thought he was an obsessed coward who couldn't even face his girl's death. Then that evil finger hovered over the power button.

"Let's see if she'll answer," she teased darkly.

"Don't," Nate begged with such desperation he didn't know where it was coming from. He had never felt such bliss and pain in his life, not since Sam died at least.

"So you were lying to me about her," Charlotte grinned, "She's alive and has absolutely no idea what kind of stunt you're up to. Maybe I should call her up and pretend to be your girlfriend. I'll bet anything that it will crumple her to the floor."

"NO," Nate grabbed for the phone and missed. "Please, don't call her. I didn't lie. She's gone. I just can't… I can't-"

"You still think she's coming back," she gasped with big black eyes staring at him.

She looked confused by the emotion. It was like she had never even witnessed somebody caring for somebody else like that. She looked just like Parker in that moment. The anger boiled in his veins at the comparison. Charlotte was just as unloved as Parker had been. That was wrong.

Nate growled a reply. It was something that sounded like, "I didn't say that." Then he closed his mouth and regretted the motion. It would only drive her point home and make him feel worse about himself. He was lying to the woman like she wasn't his girlfriend. Well, she technically wasn't.

"She's not coming back," Charlotte stressed, "My husband doesn't allow that. Nobody returns when Damien takes a liking to somebody's girl."

Nate accidentally hissed at the way she said her husband's name. He hated the way she sounded so helpless. She was stuck in a marriage with nothing but hate for the man who put her there. But she was in love with the child they had created and the empire they built. Her lust was for money and her love was power. Even the way she stood before him was completely wrong. She was prim and proper. Her back was perfectly straight and her head never bowed unless it was for a con. Her black eyes demanded a bow in her presence.

"Your hacker understands that," she explained.

The mastermind glared at her for the remark. She just giggled at him. She was baiting him. The wicked, evil woman was enjoying his struggle. At least some things would never change.

"What do you mean?" He hissed.

She shrugged.

"You'll find out eventually," she said, "I don't want to spoil the fun. Do you honestly think you can defeat my husband?"

Nate stared at her in confusion. Then he suddenly got the hint she was giving him. He stared at her for a few minutes as he tried to contemplate what her play was. Finally he gave up.

"Why didn't you tell him about our plans?" He asked.

"What fun would that be?" She laughed, "Besides, I want to see his face when he discovers you destroy his perfect escape plan. I told him that island wouldn't be as safe as he thought. Ribera has always been a push over. That's the probably with corrupt men. Eventually they decide you're not paying them enough."

"Well, your villa was a key selling point," Nathan jibed. He couldn't exactly resist. This was the most normal conversation they ever had in this world. It reminded him of when he was chasing Sophie through Europe.

"You have an incredible mind, Mr. Ford," Charlotte announced, "Did Sophie appreciate it as much as I do?"

"She can keep up," Nate grimaced, "Well, she could. It was what drew us together. She's… uh; she was gorgeous and flaunted it in front of me constantly when I was still with Maggie. But it was that brain of hers that really made her hard to resist. She knew how to push and prod and outwit me at every turn we made."

"And she became enough of a tease to lure you away," Charlotte prodded, "Or was it your son's death that actually tore you away from your ex-wife and into the arms of a grifter?"

"Believe it or not I was an honest man at one point in time," Nate chuckled, "It's what probably made her fall for me. My one regret in life is that-"

The mastermind stopped himself before he could further the damage. He hated himself for falling for her tricks again. Her eyes were so eager to hear more but she was only in it for the blackmail. She was just gathering more information for his demise. She killed Maggie for crying out loud!

"Regret what?" She asked, "What is your one regret? You can't just stop right in the middle of the sentence. That's rude."

"No," Nate shouted, "I won't give you anymore ammo. You want to call her, go ahead! You'll probably have better luck than I will. Hit the redial button. I've been dialing that number ever since this whole mess began. I get nothing but a busy signal. I don't even get her voicemail."

"You care for her," Charlotte said tilting her head to the left in thought, "Just like I care for my husband-"

"Don't even lie to me about that," Nate growled, "I may not be able to read you as plain as day but I can definitely tell you don't love the bastard you call a husband."

"And how can you be so sure?" She demanded.

"Your eyes," he explained, "They're blank. They hold no emotion with the only exception being Sam."

She scoffed at his reply.

"Plus you say his name like he's a bug and you want him squished," he finished.

The grifter stared at him for a few minutes. Her black eyes peered into his sole with the need of understanding. She seemed to find him just as fascinating in this life as she had in their past.

"Do you know how I earned the name Charlotte Prentice?" She asked.

The question was meant to be rhetorical but the mastermind nodded his head anyway. Then he noticed her scandalized face and decided to divulge further information.

"You married the Duke of Hanover William Prentice," he explained, "Then you left him when he hit you after your miscarriage. He was drunk and eventually found the bottom of a bottle with his grave because you-"

Smack!

The grifter's whip of a hand hit his face immediately. Fire was blazing in her eyes and her chest was heaving. She was shaking with her anger and acting very… Sophie-like.

"How do you know that?" She growled, "Where did you get this information? Who told you about me?"

_You_, Nate thought bitterly. Instead he said, "Why did you kill Maggie when you knew I was over her?"

"Because she was the only open I had," she replied, "Why do you expect me to follow you instead of my husband?"

"I don't."

"You do too," she scowled, "Every time you look at me it's like you're seeing her."

"Who?"

"This Sophie woman!" She howled waving the phone violently in indication, "Why do you keep comparing me to her? I've done nothing to convince you of anything. Is it because I'm a grifter? Because she was probably a bad one if you chased her!"

"She was an angel," Nate replied darkly, "She helped me take down several rich bastards who took advantage of the innocent. She reopened her stubborn heart and forced me to live again. She saved more people than you could ever hope to. How dare you compare yourself to her?"

The silence that filled the room was thick with anger and pain. They were both breathing heavily and glaring hurtful daggers at each other. They were aiming to kill each other with their words. Neither was willing to bend at the other's will and it was frustrating. Why was it so frustrating? She wasn't the grifter he had known. They weren't the same anymore.

"You don't think I can change either," she sighed, "Do you?"

Nate stared at the woman. He didn't know how to answer her and that scared him. He didn't realize she had listened to their conversation after dinner. But she had mentioned Hardison's Nana so it wasn't that far-fetched of an idea. She really sounded as though she wanted to him to believe in her. And why not? He was the only witness to her change before. He watched her change right before his eyes like nobody else could. The others had never seen just how good she was before. They had no idea what a menace she had been to I.Y.S. Why couldn't she change this time around too?

"I think you can," he said, "but you have to try first."

"What's stopping me from dialing my husband right now and telling him exactly where I am?" She demanded heatedly.

"Nothing," Nate admitted, "just you."

The grifter smiled evilly and pulled open the window doors. She raced out to the balcony and dangled the phone over the edge. She beckoned him closer and kept a firm grip on the prized possession.

"Since you know me so well," Charlotte dared, "Tell me why I should throw this over the edge."

"That's my phone," Nate argued, "Why would I want you to throw that over the edge?"

"Because I just called my husband," she explained, "and the phone is being traced even as we speak."

The mastermind stared at her determined grin. He studied her expression and the way she moved the phone in her hands. She was subtly nudging it closer and closer to the edge. She would pull it back seconds before it went over though. She was toying with him. But her eyes were glowing.

She hung up the phone and smiled.

"Time is running out," she chimed.

Then she dialed again.

"Your son," Nate said, "What I promised you is possible. I can give you and your son a brand new beginning. You will never have to worry about him becoming anything like his father."

She hung up the phone and smiled again.

"You're still not convincing me," she hummed dialing again as she spoke.

"We can do it, so… Charlotte," he stammered, "Your husband is just going to use him like he used you. You're not as trapped as you think. You can still save your son. You can still choose."

The grifter hung up the phone. This time though, she didn't dial again. She just waited for him to continue with baited breath. He had her interest.

"He's going to rescue me," she explained. But she did not dial again.

Nate shook his head.

"Oh, Charlotte," he sighed, "We both know that's not true. He thinks he's better off without you."

The grifter giggled at him and the mastermind grinned with her. It was like they were sharing an old joke.

"But we both know it's the other way around," he said, "For Sam too."

"But he's Sam's father," she complained.

"You're going to have to choose between your husband and your son," Nate moaned, "You know that. Even if he decides to rescue you and do the unexpected, that is a choice you have to make."

The grifter didn't reply to his words. She just continued to hold the cellphone in the air and taunt him with the way she stared at it. Her freedom was a phone call away. Yet she still hadn't made the call. Maybe he was getting through after all.

"You just…" Nate struggled with words for the very first time since this whole mess began. His emotions finally made it so he couldn't say the right thing. Why did he always have this problem when she was involved?

"You just have to decide what's more important," he explained, "Your husband's empire or your son's morality."

The cellphone fell.


	14. Let's Go!

Reuel appeared at the bar almost instantly after Nathan entered it. The angel's face was red with anger and he was definitely shaking with it.

"What are you doing?" He demanded as a form of greeting.

The mastermind just shrugged in reply. He went to the bar and started setting out a glass. He took a random bottle and poured.

"Mourning," he finally replied.

"Mourning," Reuel scowled, "More like becoming the very man you chase."

"Excuse you?" Nate howled, "What have you been watching? Where were you during this whole mess? I'm improvising."

"And we both know how awful you are at that," Reuel replied, "Your thirst for revenge and Ms. Devereaux's return has made you blind to everything else around you."

"I'm trying to save her," Nate rolled his eyes, "I know I lost my temper but I was only trying to scare her."

"And how well did that work?" Reuel growled, "Did it achieve your goal? Is she back? Can you all be a happy family again?"

"No," Nate groaned.

"No," Reuel agreed, "And do you want to know why? Because they're not the same! They're all different. They don't play by the same rules anymore. They're stuck in a world where you no longer save them from themselves."

"I can still try," Nate explained.

"No," Reuel shook his head, "No you can't. The longer you put yourself through this the more and more you will become just like Damien Moreau."

"Then send me back!" Nate hollered, "Make certain it doesn't happen by sending me home! I didn't want to make that wish. I was just so sick of you being near. I didn't want any of this to happen. Send me back."

"I can't," Reuel sighed, "You haven't learned your lesson yet."

"What lesson?" Nate shouted.

"Only you can know that," the angel said, "but beware. The path you follow will lead you to a horrible place."

"Why?" The mastermind demanded, "If you're so smart, why am I changing too?"

"You already know the answer," he said, "With Ms. Devereaux you became a better man."

"And with Charlotte I'm becoming the worst," Nate groaned, "This isn't going to get better, is it?"

"If you leave them alone it will," Reuel smiled, "but we both know you won't. Poor Mr. Hardison will pay the price."

"What's going to happen to Hardison?" Nate demanded fearfully.

"You're going to kill him after he destroys himself."

Then the angel was gone before Nate could question further.

The mastermind threw a few bottles of liquor in agitation of the angel's escape. He screamed and howled and crashed stuff with his temper only increasing as he went. Thunder was pounding on his chest and fire was barreling through his veins. He understood that he what he was turning into. But he would never hurt the hacker, his protégé and in many ways his own son. That was where he would never cross the line.

"Get back here!" Nate shouted into the air. He was staring at the ceiling as if it were the answer to his prayers. "We're not finished yet!"

"Who are you talking to?"

Nate stared at the blonde thief in complete and utter shock. She wasn't even doing her normal thing of hanging upside down. She was standing in the doorway with alarm all over her features. She even looked like she cared. And in this world, Parker didn't care.

"What?" Nate stuttered.

"Who are you talking to?" She asked, "I heard you screaming when I landed and I thought I would check."

"You were checking up on me?" Nate asked, stunned beyond belief. Sophie had taught her how to check on people and their feelings.

"I've upset you," Parker groaned, "At least I think I've upset you. Charlotte told me that people frown when they're upset and you look upset."

"Charlotte's been helping you with your emotions?" Nate demanded in amazement. He could almost swear his heart was soaring and his head was swirling. "You've been talking to her about that kind of stuff?"

"Am I not supposed to be doing that?" Parker asked, "Don't you get in good with the hostage in order to better break them?"

"Yeah," Nate chuckled, "Yeah that works. It's just… uh… I'm glad you're learning about emotions."

"So who were you talking to?" The thief demanded, "You sounded angry… was it angry? Yeah, you were angry!"

"Huh?" Nate said then he remembered, "Oh! Right! No, I was just… yelling for the sake of yelling."

"Oh," Parker nodded, "Ok! I totally get that! I'm gonna go rob some banks… so, bye!"

The thief actually walked towards the door like she had been doing it for years. She didn't do a series of flips or twirling through the bar beams. No, she physically walked herself to the door without a flourish or any sign of her usual actions. Then she stopped and turned around.

"You know," she said, "When I was little I was visited by this guy who told me he was some sort of angle. Maybe it was angel but that's not really important because he was lying anyways. He told me that I was meant for great things."

"What did he tell you?" Nate asked.

"That I was meant for great things," Parker shrugged, "but he's not the only person to lie to me."

"Parker," Nate sighed, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he had a funny name," the thief replied, "His name was Reuel. Isn't that funny? Anyways, you should remember that. Bye!"

"Wait," Nate called after the thief, "What was that all about?"

"To tell you a funny story," Parker shrugged, "Hardison wants to show me stuff about hacking later. Bye now!"

And just like that, the thief was gone.

Nate stared after her in complete shock. He didn't know what to do about that girl. Every time he thought he had her figured out at least a little bit, she would do something to throw him for a loop. He smiled at how little she changed. Her eyes were actually glinting today. She even smiled and she asked about his feelings before getting side-tracked. She was talking to Charlotte too.

Nate raced into the apartment with a determined grin on his face. He took a quick look on the clock and went straight for the grifter's room. He barged through the door as if it wasn't there at all. He looked out for the grifter and stared at what he found.

She was crying. Well, it looked like she was crying. Her shoulders were twitching and she was clinging to a picture like it was the only lifeline she had. Of course, that changed when the door opened. She flung the picture to the side in her haste to appear normal and in a chipper mood. Unfortunately she was dealing with an expert in reading her. The poor thing didn't have a chance.

"Hello, Mr. Ford," she called, "You look in good spirits. Have you succeeded in ruining my family yet?"

Nate thought about all the ways he could tell her what he saw. He thought about telling her she would be alright. He even stepped forward a bit to squeeze her tight and promise to never let go. But Charlotte wasn't allowed to show her emotions like Sophie was. Charlotte wasn't free to argue with him about which parts of her life could be shared.

Mrs. Moreau wasn't his. That was the problem.

"You're going to see him again," he said instead, "I promise."

Charlotte chuckled humorlessly at that.

"Where have I heard that before?" She asked.

The mastermind shook his head at her horrid thoughts. He walked towards her with his eyes connecting to hers the whole time. He stooped low without breaking eye contact and picked up the photograph with two fingers. He returned to his full height and handed over the treasure she held close to her heart.

"He's never going to lie to you like that again," he replied, "We're going to make sure of it."

"We?" She smiled genuinely towards him.

"We," Nate agreed.

Then just as their lips were mere inches apart. He winked and turned away. His signature move made him feel more like himself and he was pretty certain the grifter was staring after him in disbelief. So he decided to add to the effect.

"Come on," he called, "We're stealing your son!"

And the con was on.


	15. Search and Rescue

"Okay Eliot, how are things on your end?"

Nate knew his question wouldn't be answered immediately. Eliot was too busy fighting off whatever goons Moreau had around. They had been at it for hours trying to figure out the best entry way. Finally Charlotte got too fed up with the waiting. She tried to storm out of the van with the mastermind attached to her wrist. She nearly killed him when he handcuffed her to him.

"I can't take the chance of you running off and ruining our plan," he explained.

The grifter slapped him in reply. They had a fight, which was more normal than usual. Then they finally decided to put their differences aside and save the boy. Well, Eliot volunteered to save Sam but Charlotte was adamant that she and Nate had to do it. Nate didn't argue because she was using Sophie's puppy-dog eyes and he knew she could trust him with protecting the boy, her son.

So there the mastermind and grifter were, standing by wall while they waited for a guard to pass them by. Honestly, he was mighty impressed the grifter didn't do anything to try and draw attention to them. Clearly her sense of priority was still working. Anything that belonged to her heart was treasured more than anything else in the world, including the man secretly in love with her.

"Nate?" Eliot called.

"Yeah," the mastermind replied.

"The South exit is free," the hitter huffed.

"Okay," Nate nodded, "Parker, meet Eliot at the East side… Uh, bring water and a couple of those granola bars I gave you."

"Why?" Charlotte demanded softly, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

Nate shrugged in confusion.

"Eliot's taking the long way," he replied, "He's going to need some of his energy restored."

"But what if there aren't any granola bars leftover?" Parker quizzed happily.

"Eliot likes the Oatmeal Raisin one's best," Nate replied.

The thief giggled in reply, which was her version of a sigh in relief. The hitter grumbled a whole bunch of color phrases, but the sound of skin on skin action implied that the curses weren't exactly directed towards him. Well, not all of them anyway.

"Hardison?" The mastermind asked.

"I'm gaining control of the enemy's computers even as we speak," Hardison cheered, "Take that Larry Duberman! Even Chaos couldn't do what I've just done."

"I bet Chaos could at least keep his mouth shut long enough for the people doing the real work to concentrate," Eliot hissed.

Then the hitter made a noise that sounded eerily like he was just hit by a bus. Thankfully he was inside so that meant the guy was big enough to be a football player. Or the guy was a Sumo wrestler the hitter could easily take both down. It didn't matter. The hitter's comment still managed to bring a smile to the mastermind's face because it was something only Eliot would say. Things were starting to turn to the normal side once again.

"No," Nate jibed just for the fun of it, "Chaos complains more than Hardison drinks orange soda."

"Seriously?" Eliot's scandalized voice called over the coms.

"How do you know that, Nate?" Parker asked.

Her voice sounded gleeful. In fact, her voice held that odd hitch to it she got when she was Tasering people.

"Parker!" Eliot growled, "You don't hit people with electrical cables."

"But they're bad guys?" She complained right on cue.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news or anything," Hardison said, "but the big fish is not in sight. I repeat the big fish is not in sight."

"Who's the big fish?" Parker asked.

"Moreau!" Hardison howled, "Damien Moreau is not in sight. I've lost him, Nate. I can't find him anywhere."

"Sam!" Charlotte groaned, "He's gone after Sam!"

"Parker, how close are you to Sam's room?" Nate asked.

He kindly ignored the hateful glare the grifter was aiming his way. The punch she placed into his shoulder was a little harder. That made him groan in pain just when a guard passed by. Said guard did a quick turnabout and came rushing towards them, gun ready for action. Apparently his luck on cons was still the same.

"I'll be there in moments, sir," Parker called.

The mastermind rolled his eyes because Charlotte pulled him out of the way of a bullet. He had it perfectly timed to deliver a punch and naturally she had to ruin it. She planted a kick into the guard's side so he couldn't be too mad at her though. The kick gave him an opportunity to deliver a pretty good blow to the right side of the guard's face. The guy dropped the gun and stumbled back in pain. He howled in agony. He lunged towards them aggressively.

Nate and Charlotte shared a dirty look. They both stood as far apart and the handcuffs allowed them. The guy was too blind with rage to slow down. He was close-lined perfectly and on the floor in seconds. Together they kicked him in the head to knock him out.

"Eliot, we've been compromised," Nate said.

"I can be there in twenty seconds," the hitter replied.

"No," Nate shook his head, "Parker's going to need your help protecting Sam-"

"One problem," Parker called.

Nate closed his eyes in agony. He pinched the bridge of his nose on reflex alone. He internally flinched at the move because he knew what came next. When he opened his eyes, his fears were confirmed. Charlotte was looking at him with horror on her features. Her black eyes turned brown in their fear as she chewed away on her bottom lip.

Thank God some bad habits don't die, Nate thought as he stared at the grifter.

"What's the problem?" He asked staring at the grifter's worried concern.

"He's gone," she said.

Nate blinked.

"What do you mean he's gone?" He asked.

"Gone," Sophie mouthed. Despair started to pour over her features. Tears automatically sprang to her eyes. She had to shake her head to regain the composure. Unfortunately she wasn't able to hide the slight tremble of her lips. He was too well-honed at watching her for that to happen.

"He's gone, sir," Parker explained, "Sam's gone with no signs of packing or anything. He left for a temporary trip."

"Or his father has enough money to worry about clothes when they're half-way to the airport," Eliot replied.

"How do you know that?" Hardison questioned curiously.

His voice held absolutely no softness to it. It was harsh and almost gleeful at the missing child. There was no sympathy or concern. He sounded off.

"Because it's exactly what we did when I picked him as our hitter," Nate explained.

Charlotte's hand whipped to his collar instantly. She was tugging him towards her, probably completely unaware of the fear gripping his heart for her. She just wanted to know what was happening to her son.

"What's happening?" She demanded bitterly.

"Hardison," Nate replied, staring at her sadly as he spoke.

"I can't find him anywhere," Hardison growled, "They might have figured out how to block me."

"Who can do that?" Parker questioned.

"It looks like one of Chaos' designs," Hardison sighed.

Nate bit his bottom lip and wrinkled his nose. It was something he learned from both women on his team. So he blinked and quickly fixed his face to his hitter's scowl. It was easier to fake the anger at the moment.

"You promised," Charlotte cried, "You said you were going to bring him home to me."

"We're going to do that," Nate nodded, "You're not going to lose your child. I won't-"

"How?" Charlotte growled.

"That's my question too," Eliot said, "You've got eighteen trained paratroopers racing your way. I'm doing my best to get rid of them but how are you going to steal that kid away from his father?"

A loud silence enveloped the group as the question penetrated their senses. The mastermind watched as the strong grifter before him seemed to melt under the pressure. True emotions were floating around her features like nothing he had ever seen before. She was losing it, but she felt comfortable enough with him to lose it. Plus, her black eyes were finally brown again. So he did something he would probably regret later.

"Do you still have your hip holster?" Nate asked.

Charlotte's eyes turned black as glee returned to her once again. She knew what he was giving her permission to do. She had herself unlocked in seconds.


	16. Problems?

Nate silently cursed himself for falling for her grifter charms. Now he was in a mess that was never going to be resolved.

"Guys," he said, "I lost Charlotte."

The response received was oddly expected.

"What do you mean you lost Charlotte?" Hardison growled, in a voice that sounded oddly like the hitter. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You just let lose the other half of the worst duo in history! She's going to find her husband at the 'kid' and tell him our plan."

"Yep," Parker agreed, "We're screwed. They're going to torture us… Ooh, I wonder if they'll slowly pluck our eyes out. That could be fun."

"What's wrong with you?" Eliot replied, throwing his signature phrase into the mix with no idea what it means to mastermind listening in. "We're all doomed and you're planning heists with no eyes. Do you even hear yourself when you speak?"

And, of course, the hacker felt the need to come to the thief's defense.

"Hey man, chill," the hacker moaned, "She's just trying to find the positives in this situation. Sure, it's creepy and a little less awesome than I would like but at least we'll only be blind. I don't need my eyes to hack."

"They're not going to pluck out our eyes, Hardison," Eliot hissed, "At least not until after they've broken every ligament in our body."

Parker and Hardison both cooed the same word. Only the thief used it in excitement and curiosity while the hacker was far less enthused. Honestly, the more they hung out together as a team the more they actually started acting like a team. They were stepping in time to a march they had never heard before. It made the mastermind smile, until he remembered that he was missing a very crucial voice, the grifter's voice of reason.

"I'm going to find Charlotte," Nate explained.

He ignored the quiet chatter in his ears by taking the com out completely. If he found the grifter, he wanted to have the privacy to do it properly. He was going to tell her everything. He was going to explain why he was so interested in saving her and what kind of person was lying underneath the surface of her soul. He was going to use the truth to bring her back. He knew it would work. Then he ran into a goon with a gun.

Nate silently cursed his luck. He also cursed the grifter for leaving him on his own yet again instead of staying by his side where she belonged. The goon managed to point the gun at him before he fell to the ground, slamming into it quite comically. Reuel was standing over him with a bright smile on his face.

"Congratulations," he said, "He didn't kill you. Now let's get you to that hacker of yours."

"No," Nate growled, "You tell me how I'm going to kill him."

"You're going to kill him?" Reuel asked in a very unconvincing voice, "Why would you kill him? He's like a son to you?"

"You said…" Nate began.

"And you believed that?" Reuel huffed, "No, I didn't. You've been hearing things. Okay, let's go."

"Fine," the mastermind huffed dramatically, "You won't tell me about Hardison. That's fine. Where's Charlotte?"

"Charlotte?" Reuel asked. There was a look of guilt suddenly on his features and he was looking for an exit pretty quickly. That was not an encouraging sign. "Why do you think I know where Charlotte is?"

"Because you're an angel of the Lord," Nate suggested boldly.

"Just because I'm an angel of the Lord does not mean that I-" Reuel replied.

"Then how do you know where I am every time you appear?" Nate asked.

"Damn," Reuel cursed, "I forgot I showed you that already."

Nate's expression grew dark at the stalling game. He moved into the angel's personal space and glared daggers into his eyes. He grabbed him by the arms and shook him roughly. Then he put himself nose to nose with the guy and growled.

"Where is she?" He asked.

"With her son," the angel replied, "Where she belongs. She's taking him to her husband and they are going to run away from you. You will never see them again."

"No," Nate shook his head, "She chose her son over her husband. She's not taking Sam to him. She won't."

"Why do you have such faith in her?" Reuel asked, "She's not the woman you're in love with."

"Where are they?" Nate demanded loudly.

"On their way to the side she's chosen," the angel explained. Then he started to fade away with the wind.

"Wait," Nate called grabbing the angel's shirt as he spoke, "Why were you trying to get me to leave? Who sent you?"

"I told you," Reuel winked, "I was sent by Sam to teach you a lesson you needed to learn."

Then Reuel's expression turned crushingly dark. An evil smile appeared upon his lips and his eyes twinkled with a red glint.

"A lesson you are about to learn," he said.

Then he was gone, out of the mastermind's hands as if he had never been there to begin with. Nate cursed the angel and torture he was going through. Then he grabbed the earbud in his pocket and placed it back into his ear. It exploded.

"Nate," Hardison growled, "It's about time you decided to put your com back in. Where did you go? You were in my sights and then you were and now you are again. How did you do that?"

Nate cursed again. This time it was just out loud.

"Don't yell at Hardison," Parker said, "you're the one who disappeared so Eliot and I had to look all over for you. Hardison went through the trouble of searching for you, Moreau, his wife and their son."

"I found Moreau by the way," Hardison cheered, "and Charlotte's tracker is working again. She's not that far away if this is right. She's only down the next hall and around the corner."

"If it's right?" Eliot questioned, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"She's not moving," Hardison explained, "I can't tell if she's alive or if she found the bug and planted it there. There's no guarantee that she's standing there."

"Can't you tell on one of those cameras?" The hitter demanded, sounding more annoyed than genuinely angry. He was starting to get frustrated if the mastermind had to wager a guess.

"That's the only corner in the building that does not have a camera," Hardison replied, "I've tried everything to see into it. I'm sorry, Nate. She got away."

"No," the mastermind replied, shaking his head despite the fact that nobody could see him. "No, that's exactly where she is. It's the only blind-spot in the building. It's the perfect spot for her to go to betray her husband."

"Or meet with him," the hitter added.

The mastermind couldn't help but agree with the man's assessment. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out. He was going to have to go over and investigate.

"How many men are around this corner, Hardison?" He asked.

"None so far but I hope you're not suggesting what I know you're suggesting," the hacker replied, clicking all the while.

"Nate," Eliot called, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"No," Nate replied, "I want you to stop Moreau before he gets away. If we don't get Moreau than everything else was useless."

"Would you like me to assist him in his apprehension of Moreau?" The thief asked. She sounded like she was slinking in the air ducts above. It was a comforting sound as it blended perfectly with the hitter's brawling.

"Yes, Parker," Nate grinned, "Assist him to your heart's content, but I want Moreau alive."

"So you can avenge Sophie Devereaux?" Parker asked.

Nate balked.

"How did you know about Sophie?" He asked. He knew the hitter would never reveal his secret.

"Hardison overheard your conversation," she explained.

"No, I did not," Hardison explained guiltily as always, "I would never listen in on one of your conversations, Nate. She did it! I was just the poor, innocent bystander she decided to tell your secret to! I did nothing wrong. It was all her, I swear!"

"That was supposed to be a private conversation between me and Nate!" The hitter growled, "What's wrong with you?"

Then there was a sound coming from his com that sounded as though he was punched in the face. The glorious sounds of more punching and kicking enveloped his end of the line. Apparently, he was busy with other priorities at the moment.

"Leave Moreau alive," Nate growled, "He's mine for whatever reason I want. Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to find his wife and son before he does."

And just like the mastermind removed his earbud and began his march. He met a couple of guards with guns, knocked them out and carried on as if nothing had happened. He smiled at his handy work and proceeded down the hall without further incident. Nate turned the corner and ended up facing the barrel of a gun.

**A/N:** _Oh look, a cliff-hanger. We're getting close to the end folks. Hold tight!_


	17. Another Decision

The image before him did not belong behind a gun. That was Nathan Ford's first thought as he stared at his attacker. The boy was no more than fourteen years old. He was barely a teenager and already holding a weapon. He had brown hair slicked in grease to keep it groomed and non-moving. Tiny wisps of curls still managed to escape around his ears. His suit was wrapped around his body, perfectly tailored to his tiny frame. But none of that held the mastermind's attention. No, it was the boy's jaw. It was the boy's lips. It was the big, brown doe eyes staring at him. He was Sophie's son.

"Sam," the grifter called right on cue, "Let him go. He won't harm us."

"This is the man who took you away from us," the boy replied. He refused to lower his gun even an inch.

"Yes," Charlotte replied and she sounded so much like Sophie the mastermind actually forgot where he was for one crazy moment.

"This is the man who bruised you," Sam said darkly. His expression even mirrored that of his father. He looked like a greedy bastard ready to take care of a problem.

"Sam," Charlotte began.

"No, mother," the boy growled.

"Don't talk to your mother that way," Nate responded automatically. He regretted the action immediately.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" Sam asked with a deep voice that sounded too much like Damien Moreau. "Who are you to demand respect of my mother? What have you done to her?"

"Nothing, Sam," Charlotte cooed.

"Don't," Nate warned. He knew exactly where the boy was going. He knew thoughts were coursing through his mind.

"Don't you say anything to my mother!" Sam said, "As her kidnapper you have no right!"

"Sam, put the gun away," Charlotte ordered briskly, "He's on our side."

"He would know that if you hadn't run away," Nate glowered towards her.

"I didn't have a choice," Charlotte replied, "I had to make certain he was alright."

"You could have taken me with you," the mastermind hissed at her answer.

The grifter just rolled her eyes.

"I didn't know if Damien was with him," she said.

"Stop it!" Sam begged of his mother, "Stop acting like that. Dad told me everything he could have done to you. He told me what kind of torture you would experience. Why are you being friendly with him?"

"Sam," Charlotte tried.

"Your father was wrong," Nate explained, "Don't worry about-"

"I'm the one with the gun," Sam growled, "I'm the one with the power!"

"Sam, stop!" Charlotte tried.

"Silence, mother," the boy replied, "I'll deal with you later."

His tone was so much like his father's that Nate couldn't help but bristle. He stepped towards the boy and the gun was staring at him again. Charlotte even cried out in worry. She believed her son capable of shooting.

"What have you done to my mother?" The boy howled.

The gun was shaking in his hands and he looked on the verge of tears. But his aim was planted firmly on the mastermind. He looked like his father in that moment. His tailored suit and slicked back hair made him look evil and filled with hatred. But his eyes, Sophie's eyes were filled to the brim with fear.

"I kidnapped her," Nate replied, "and I told her that I could get you out of this world. I gave her exactly what she wanted."

"That wasn't what I asked?" Sam screamed crying all the while, "I want to know if… if…"

"If?" Nate pressed, "If what?"

"If…" Sam struggled, "if you… if you… if you hurt her!"

"If I raped her," Nate groaned. Of course Moreau would do that to his own child. That bastard told him everything to turn him.

"Did you?" The boy asked, "Did you hurt my mother?"

"Sam," Charlotte cooed. True fear was once again in her eyes. She was staring at her son just like Sophie would. Tears were even tracing her cheeks because she didn't want him to do it. If she had the choice the gun would be gone. But it wasn't her choice and everybody knew it. Sam had to make this one on his own. "He didn't-"

"Don't lie to me!" Sam demanded angrily, "I'm so sick of lies. I just want to know the truth. I want to know if he hurt you and you won't tell me the truth!"

"I am telling you the truth," Charlotte sighed, "He didn't hurt me."

"Then how did you get that bruise?" Sam asked sharply, "The one I saw you hide. The one on your thigh. How did that happen?"

"I was mad," Nate explained, "I just discovered that your mother was responsible for the death of an old friend. My anger got the better of me and I almost did something stupid. I'm sorry, Sam."

"Don't say my name!" Sam howled, "Don't you dare say my name. You've got no right after what you've done to my mother."

"I'm trying to save her!" Nate hissed towards the boy. Only a moment later did he realize his mistake. He turned towards the woman with wide eyes and felt heat rise towards his cheeks.

Charlotte stared at him just as in shock. She clearly had no idea what to do with the information. Of course, her attention was very divided anyway. She kept casting glances to her son's trigger finger and going pale at the premise. She was downright terrified of her son becoming anything like her or his father.

"Save her," Sam repeated, "Prove it by answering my question."

The mastermind couldn't help the slight smirk at the boy's command. He even sounded like Sophie when she was in charge. He was living proof that Sophie Devereaux did exist. He was where she went.

"I didn't," Nate shook his head, "I could never do that."

"I don't believe you," the boy scowled. He tightened his hold on the gun and even nudged it closer to the mastermind's chest. But his eyes said that he knew the truth was spoken. It wasn't guilt he was deciding anymore. It was time for the boy to choose his path. "You just don't want to die," he said.

"Sam, please," Charlotte cried. The fear was bouncing off of her but she kept looking at the mastermind in confusion. She was begging him to stop this. She was asking him for help. "Don't do this," she said.

"What you're going through now," Nate explained slowly, "Is a transitioning phase. You're morality is on the line and you're not exactly sure how to adjust to the lifestyle you're accustomed to."

"Stop talking!" Sam ordered bitterly, "Who are you to say that? You're nothing! You're just a weasel trying to steal my mother from my father!"

"No, your father lost her because of this!" Nate scowled at the boy, "He just kept using his power as an excuse to hurt her! He cheated on her!"

"Lies," Sam growled, "My father would do anything to protect her. He said so himself."

"He lied," Nate replied, "He's just using you like he used her. I'm not your enemy."

"NO, you're my father's!"

"Sam, please listen," Charlotte screamed. Her eyes were darting between the two in hysteria. She seemed completely unsure of herself. Her loyalty to her son was forcing her to act while her new found alliance to the mastermind had her begging for help.

The gun clicked, signaling that it was ready for fire. The teenaged boy's brown eyes seemed determined. His hand had even stopped shaking. He'd made his choice. There was only one play left.

"Go ahead," Nate commanded, "But you're still going to have to make the choice."

"What choice?" Sam scoffed. He had no idea how much he sounded like his mother. The boy was Sophie Devereaux to an almost perfect T. And that was Nate's advantage.

"One day," the mastermind explained, "and one day soon, you will have to make the decision between your parents."

Sam opened his mouth to argue with the older man. His brown eyes sparkled with the same fire of his other mother. But Damien Moreau was the man standing before the mastermind. He was the puppet master pulling the strings. Poor little Samuel Moreau was finally becoming the heir to the Black Dynasty. Evil was starting to win.

"Don't argue with me," Nate ordered, "You're already at that point. Even if you kill me, you have to choose between them. They've betrayed each other. Your mother wants to leave and your father wants her dead. You have to choose. They won't be together when this is all over."

"No, they will," Sam argued, "They belong together."

"Look at her," Nate howled pointing at the grifter as he spoke, "Look at you mother and tell me she wants to return to him. Tell me that the light hasn't faded from her eyes. Tell me that you don't slowly see her die every day at his hands because of some stupid action he performs. Tell me she's the same loving woman you knew when you were younger! Prove it!"

"Alright that's enough," Charlotte growled. Her eyes were cold a fierce. She looked ready to kill him for making her look weak in front of her child.

"She wants to change," the mastermind challenged, "for you. He doesn't. He wants the empire to carry on with you. Right here, right now is when you need to choose. Whose child do you want to be? Do you want to be your mother's good boy? Or your father's bad ass heir?"

Sam looked towards his mother and then the gun. His frightened eyes looked wildly around for any confirmation of where his loyalty should lie. Then he noticed the mastermind wasn't watching him, at least directly. Nate's focus was solely on the grifter quietly begging her son to put the gun away. He was barely aware of the way the boy was observing him. It wasn't until Charlotte reached towards her son that he realized what was happening.

The boy was pointing a violently shaking gun at his face. Tears were coursing down the child's cheeks as he contemplated making his first kill. But his eyes were hesitant and kept darting towards his mother. So the mastermind extended his hand and stared directly into bright brown eyes.

"Give me the gun, Sam," he said, "or shoot me. Those are your choices."

"Please give him the gun," Charlotte begged.

"He's going to kill Dad," the boy explained.

"I promise you I won't kill him unless I absolutely have to," Nate said, "Give me the gun, Sam."

The young Moreau struggled with the gun. He pointed the gun into the mastermind's face and even dared to wiggle his finger on the trigger. Then he put the gun in his hand and fell into his mother's arm.

"It's alright," she cooed, "It's okay. It's okay, baby, mummy's here."

The boy cried and apologized while the mastermind stared at them. He couldn't get over how close they were. A pang in his gut he didn't even know was there started to bubble. It wasn't a memory of his own son like expected. He wanted to be the father of the boy in the grifter's arms. He wanted to explain how proud of him he was of the decision he made. Of course, in this world it wasn't possible.

"Let's go," he ordered. His voice sounded a little rough to his own ears. But nobody commented on it so he just shrugged it off and went away.


	18. A Cornered King

**A/N:** _I told you we were on the home stretch. __Enjoy these last two chapters!_

"Nate, we've got him," Eliot called.

The mastermind closed his eyes in relief. He quickly checked Sam's gun and made certain it was working properly. The grifter was staring at him with concern. She was clinging to her boy with fear actually on her features. She was eyeing the gun like it was a threat. The mastermind rolled his eyes and watched her roll her eyes in return.

"We found him," Nate explained.

Her face was perfectly void of emotion as she nodded in understanding. Sam looked towards her with confused eyebrows but she shook her head. Nate motioned for them to go ahead and she quickly obliged, pushing her son in front of her as she went. Then she suddenly pulled the boy behind her and pushed him into a corner.

Nate pointed the gun towards the area the grifter was staring at. Hardison was standing in the doorway with a gun in his hands. He looked towards the grifter with a demented smile on his face. Then he took note of his boss and lowered the gun slightly.

"Dammit Hardison," Nate growled, "Put the gun down. I thought you were one of Moreau's men for a minute there."

"Whoa man," Hardison pulled the gun away, "That's cold. Telling your trusty hacker that he's one of Moreau's men after everything I told you. I'm gonna remember this when this is all over."

"First Damien Moreau then we'll find your Nana," Nate promised softly. He couldn't help the slight edge to his voice. There was something wrong with his hacker. The tiny prickles on the back of his neck were telling him that much. He couldn't quite place it but there was something unnatural resting under the surface with him.

The mastermind shook his head. He would have to worry about that later. There were more important matters to think about. He waved the hacker to go ahead of him. Then he turned towards the grifter and her child. The grifter's eyes were wide with fear while her son looked on in confusion.

"What?" Nate asked.

"If my husband stole his Nana away then she is dead," Charlotte explained softly.

"Dad doesn't kill," Sam said, staring at his mother in confusion.

Charlotte stared at her boy with pity. She lightly ruffled his hair and nodded. She smiled and pushed him towards the exit. Then she realized the hacker was still waiting for them, not too far away. She went through the door first. Her eyes sent a silent plea towards the mastermind. He didn't know how but he had earned her trust as far as her child was concerned.

The mastermind took a deep breath and joined them in exiting the building. The hacker was leading them to the pier behind the safe house. Moreau's men were lying everywhere. There wasn't a single one of them that was left conscious, or alive. Eliot did his job to the fullest. He made certain his team wouldn't be harmed by any member of the enemy's team. He had no idea how honored Nate felt to have that kind of loyalty. But when all of this was over, he was going to make certain of it.

Moreau was being held by Parker and Eliot. There were handcuffs on his wrists and a chain in his mouth. He looked firmly displeased and Nate couldn't blame him. Apparently the man had royally ticked off his thief. That was always a disgracing sign. And unnecessary, if the unconscious pilot and bodyguard had anything to say about it.

"Release him," Nate ordered softly.

The thief obeyed him immediately and removed the chain from Moreau's mouth. The hitter remained unmoved.

"I can't let him go, Nate," he explained, "He'll kill you. I won't let that happen."

"It's alright, Eliot," the mastermind replied, slowly raising the gun in his hand, "I'll be fine."

The hitter acknowledged the order with a bob of his head. He released Moreau's cuffs and walked to his new boss' side. He crossed his arms as he watched his old boss. He was stating his side.

Damien laughed. He looked around him a laughed at the small group that ruined him. He laughed harder when he took note of the scrawny hacker to the mastermind's right. He tried to stop the laughter when his black eyes fell on the tiny blonde who managed to capture him. The laughter just kept coming when he finally took note of his old and new enemy.

"Dad," Sam called.

The laughter stopped. The features on his face fell. He turned towards his wife and child with true fear in his eyes. Then his evil eyes fell on his wife. They narrowed and a growl started ripping through his throat.

"I should have known," he said.

"Charlotte didn't plan this," Nate shouted towards the man.

The quake of anger in his voice wasn't fake. He knew Charlotte and Sophie had one rule in common. They would never cheat on their relationship, even if the other was doing so. That was why she threw herself at him to begin with. Rape was protocol. If she pretended she was cheating it would act as something she deserved. As her husband, Damien Moreau should have known that.

"So that was your plan," Damien grinned, still staring at his wife and child in hatred. "You're taking my family away from me. But who did I take from you?"

Nate expected the question to appear. He even practiced an answer for the occasion. He was all set to answer. He even had his mouth wide open and ready to speak. But somebody decided to beat him to it.

"Jimmy Ford," Charlotte explained, "Apparently the man was his father. I told you we should have fired that hacker of yours. He didn't even bother to see if the man had someone to extract revenge before we blew him up."

Nate stared at the grifter in awe. Her son seemed to be doing the same thing. Both were astounded by her simple way of speaking about a dead old man. She didn't even flinch at the mention of his name. Poor Sam looked sick from the information. He was starting to figure out exactly what kind of people his parents really were. He looked so devastated, like Sophie after a failed play.

"I saw the picture in your wallet right behind your ex-wife," Charlotte said. There was even the smallest hint of apology in her voice. That made the mastermind's heart soar. It was impossible, but she was changing. There was still hope.

"So this is just old-fashioned revenge," Moreau huffed, "I'm kind of disappointed. I was hoping for something more self-righteous."

"Actually that was last time," Nate shrugged, "I decided to be a little less subtle this time around."

"You call kidnapping my wife, invading my home and stealing my son subtle?" Moreau laughed, "You need a new definition."

"Nate," Parker hissed.

"I know, Parker," Nate nodded, "I know."

"So what happens next?" Moreau demanded nonchalantly, "Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm thinking about it," the mastermind replied, "but I kind of promised your son I wouldn't. Nice touch ordering him to try and kill me by the way. Too scared to do it yourself?"

"He's almost a man," Moreau huffed, "It's time he started learning the truth about the family business, don't you think?"

"He's fourteen!" Nate hissed, "He shouldn't even be around guns. He should be worrying about getting good grades in school, girls and getting ready for college. Not playing with people's lives."

"Ooh, you are a self-righteous bastard, aren't you?" Moreau laughed, "Tell me, do you practice what you preach? Have you left my wife untouched?"

"Stop," Sam begged, breaking away from his mother's hold just enough to step in between his father and the gun. Charlotte was there in seconds, pulling him away.

"Please, just let him go," he said.

"No, Sam," Charlotte ordered. She pulled him into her embrace again. Then she forced him towards the sidelines and refused to let go.

"You just missed your shot, Ford," Moreau sighed, "Because now I know you're bluffing."

The mastermind fired the gun into the air. He smiled and pointed it back at his enemy. He shrugged and waited for the next stage of the game.

"Are you sure?" Nate asked, "Because I've got four bullets left if I counted right. You gave your son a revolver for protection. What kind of man does that? It's my father's too if memory serves correctly."

"Go ahead," Moreau sneered, "Make it interesting. I'm sure you can make me suffer with my family watching by the edge of the pier."

"Dad, no!" Sam shouted. He stretched out his hand towards his father imploringly. Yet, his mother's nails forced him to stay where he was this time around.

"Please," Charlotte begged with actual fear in her voice again. She was gripping Sam's shoulders tightly, her knuckles white. Her eyes were glued to the gun pointing at her husband. "Not in front of his son. I'll do anything you want just not in front of his son."

Nate stared at the grifter for a few moments. He felt the now all too familiar twinge of jealousy at the way she feared her current lover's death. Then his eyes fell on the bright brown eyes of her son. The child was staring at him with horror all over his features. He was shaking in his mother's arms and gripping her white hands tightly. He looked so much like his mother at that moment it was astounding. Her cheeks, her lips, he even had the grifter's warm eyes. Everything else seemed to be dominated by Damien Moreau but that face was all Sophie Devereaux.

Nate looked back to his greatest enemy and sighed. "Parker," he said, "Please take Sam somewhere safe and away from here. Charlotte's right. He shouldn't have to watch this."

He felt more than saw the thief's nod at his instructions. Children were always her weakness, just like Eliot. She couldn't hurt them because they were so similar to her. She would protect an heir to evil because he was innocent.

He turned his eyes on the boy and noticed the way the grifter held him so tight to her chest. The love was still there, buried deep within her heart she was still the same whether she was aware of it or not. Sam just looked between his mother, his father and the man with the gun in fear of what was happening. There was acceptance as well if only because his mother was pushing him towards it but he still seemed upset about losing his father. That spoke volumes about the kind of parents Charlotte and Damien were. It was important.

Nate waited until the thief had taken the boy safely away before he continued. He stared his enemy directly in the eyes and made a very important decision about himself. "I'm not going to kill you," he said, "But I am going to punish you."

"Punish me?" Moreau laughed, "And how do you plan on doing that without killing me?"

"Prison," Nate remarked, "And where I will be sending you is not going to be pleasant."

"You're not going to kill him?" Hardison growled, "He's a known terrorist, man!"

"He's also a father," Nate hollered, "and because of that I can't kill him. Besides, the absolute worst thing I can do is send him away in a prison with people he put there in some way or another."

"Where would that be?" Moreau demanded, "I have men all over the world willing to help me. Where could you possibly send me that isn't in my loyalty?"

"San Lorenzo," the mastermind replied.

Moreau's jaw dropped and even Charlotte had to gasp at the suggestion. His cocky smile was gone as his arrogance was flaring. Everything about the man and the way he was acting suggested just how riled up he was by the simple suggestion.

"Even as we speak Ribera is being removed from office," Nate smiled at his plan. "His enemy is moving in and as a special favor to me he will be signing a document for your arrest. Eliot and the rest of my crew will be taking you there immediately."

"You can't do this!" Moreau howled, "I own their papers, I own their government! You can't remove me."

"What's the best way to remove a King from his throne?" Eliot countered. Moreau stared at him with betrayal flaming in his eyes. The hitter just rolled his eyes and grinned. "You declare Independence. San Lorenzo doesn't want to belong to you anymore."

"So it's your choice," Nate explained, "You can stay here and get arrested and try your chance in the U.S. with extradition treaties with every single one of the countries looking forward to killing you. Or San Lorenzo where everybody will forget you."

Moreau took a deep breath and glared at the mastermind. "Well-played," he said.

Nate smiled at the distant sound of a private jet in the air. He lowered his gun but he refused to move it from his enemy's sight. He needed to make certain Moreau got on that plane. He couldn't afford failing Sam, not when Sophie was his mother. The boy deserved to live outside of his father's shadow, to choose his own path.

"The jet's ready," Hardison called.

"May I say good-bye?"

Charlotte's voice filtered through the air like a soft, velvet wind. She sounded professional but sad too. She knew she was losing her husband but she wasn't losing her son. She was mainly upset over the loss of power and the fact that she and her husband were outsmarted by an unforeseen force.

Nate allowed his eyes to meet hers. The coldness was softer now but those brown eyes were still charcoal black. He nodded his head and watched as the woman moved effortlessly towards her husband. Even in this reality she still moved like a queen.

Moreau watched his wife as she moved towards him. There was a worried little frown on his face and nervousness in his every stance. But his eyes did sparkle at her close proximity. She stood before him and his hands immediately found her waist. Her hands were on his cheeks instantly. Their mouths became one as they shared a passionate kiss.

The mastermind felt his heart squeeze at the reaction. The two were clicking their tongues together with absolutely no consideration for what was going on around them. Moreau was probably aware of everything going on too. Nate wasn't exactly good at hiding his feelings from everybody in this world.

A shot rang out and echoed through the whole pier. Nate's gun dropped at the horrendous sound. His heart stopped and sweat began to spout from every pore in his body. Time stood still as he felt a horrendous scream threaten to tear its way out of his mouth. Moreau and his wife were too entangled in one another to figure out who fired the weapon.


	19. Checkmate!

"Good-bye," Sophie replied. She turned around and ignored her husband's fatal fall to the ground. She was smiling as she unloaded and discarded her gun. She looked completely relieved as her husband gasped his last breath.

Nate stared at her in complete horror. She just violated her number one rule. She killed and this time it was directly. She killed her own husband and she didn't even care. She looked so relieved and happy over the murder it was like she had no love whatsoever. How could she be such a loving mother one second and a murderess wife the next? How could she condemn herself so easily?

"Why?" Nate demanded. He couldn't tell if he was angry or grief-stricken. Maybe he was just in shock. His grifter just committed the greatest sin in her own eyes. He didn't know what bothered him more. If that she didn't care at or that he cared a lot, too much.

She stopped, tilting her head to the side in curiosity and staring at him with those bright black eyes. She was like an animal trying to decipher if something was greater predator or prey. Then she shrugged and shook off his disapproval as if she didn't care.

"You were right," she cooed, "He would have done the same to me."

The mastermind stared at her in complete disbelief. He was utterly devastated and he didn't know what to do with his emotions. It was as if he just lost his son all over again. She wasn't even dead and he still lost her. Then the hitter placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's true, Nate," Eliot explained, "and he would have made certain the kid didn't make it too."

The mastermind turned towards the hitter in confusion. Then he understood. Charlotte saved him. She made the call he never could. She murdered again. Maybe she did change. After all, the hitter used to be a professional killer. He bounced back from that. She could too. They would all help her to do it. Nate turned towards the grifter with a slight nod. She smiled at his understanding.

Another shot rang out and the grifter fell to the ground.

"No!" Nate screamed. He looked to his right with anger on his every feature.

Hardison stood with the smoking gun in his hand. The gun wasn't shaking and his gaze was far too steady. That man didn't even look queasy at what he had done. He looked like he thought he did the world a favor.

"I had to do it," he said, "I promised Nana."

"You said they just kidnapped her," Eliot replied. He was studying the hacker carefully now trying to decide if he was a threat. He took the gun away and stared him straight in the face.

"I lied," Alec replied.

Nate ignored the duo. He rushed towards the grifter with fear gripping his heart. He pulled her into his arms and tried to stop the bleeding. Her entire stomach was red with blood. Even when he put a hand over the gushing wound he knew she wouldn't last long.

"He made… a good call," Sophie stuttered. Pain was evident in her voice and face. There wasn't a trace of hope anywhere.

"It's alright," Nate smiled sadly, "I've got you."

"Sophie Devereaux," she said her breath falling out of her mouth in great gasps. "You love her, don't you?"

"Yes," Nate agreed, "very much."

Sophie nodded at the answer that was given. Tears were finally pouring from her eyes. She coughed up a few flecks of blood and the mastermind squeezed her tighter. She looked grateful when he wiped some hair out of her eyes. They were still cold and full of hate. It hurt to see that kind of emotion at this time.

"Were we married?" She asked.

Nate chuckled at her beautiful mind and how quickly it worked. Then he kissed her on the forehead and shook his head.

"No," he said, "Not yet."

"Take care of Sam," she asked.

Nate nodded at the command. He felt tears prickling his eyes at the way she had to gasp for every breath. Then he watched as the light of life shimmered out of those dark, cold eyes. She fell limp in his arms motionless for the rest of eternity.

"No!" He cried. He was on his feet and heading somewhere. Then his fist collided with black skin. "You killed her!"

Hardison stumbled back at the blow. His brown eyes were wide and filled with fear. But no regret resided in those once kind eyes. No, they were just as cold as Charlotte Prentice-Moreau's. The mastermind cursed himself for being so blind. He was so fixated on saving the grifter that he missed the most obvious sign. The hacker's hatred had been a bright, shining neon sign from the very beginning. It had always been bubbling under the surface. His hacker had been enveloped by the darkness of the world. He was no longer the young man he had once known.

"I had to," Hardison replied, "She would have killed all of us! She killed my Nana. What was I supposed to do? Let her walk away?"

"She had a son!" Nate shouted, swinging another fist his former-hacker's way. "What am I supposed to tell him? Both of his parents are dead!"

"Good," Hardison growled, "If you'll give me a moment we won't have to worry about the Prince of Darkness either. He'll be just as dead as the King and Queen."

This time it was Eliot who went into action. He fisted the hacker's shirt and yanked him off his feet. They were face to face now and glaring daggers into each other's eyes.

"You're not touching the kid!" Eliot screamed, "He didn't do anything wrong. You can't punish him for the sins of his parents. He can still change."

"It's already too late, Eliot," Hardison shouted, "That kid thinks Nate killed his father. It's not going to be a hard leap for him to make the connection to his mother. He's not going to accept us or be good. He's going to want revenge. Trust me I'm the direct result of watching my parents die!"

"You're not touching him," Eliot growled, "I'll kill you first."

"Why are you defending him?" Hardison asked in disgust, "If you ask me I did the world a favor!"

"A favor?" Eliot hissed, "Dammit Hardison, you killed a person…"

Nate ignored the two of them. He was too caught up in his own world of misery to care. His breathing was erratic and the only thing he could think about was Sophie's cooling body. He collapsed on the ground beside the grifter and cuddled her close to his body. He just held her tight and tried to imagine a way home, a way to the world where the grifter was alive and the hacker wasn't her murderer.

"Please," Nate begged towards the heavens with all of his might, "Please, Reuel. End this Hell. I want to go home. I want her back. I need her back."

The angel appeared in his line of sight instantly. He was shaking his head while standing over Moreau's body. The hitter and hacker didn't notice him. They probably couldn't even see him. They were too busy battling each other. Parker was racing from the safe house at top speed. Sam wasn't far behind her. Soon they would both join in the mastermind's despair. Yet none of them could know the real pain he was experiencing.

"Please, Reuel," Nate demanded softly, "I can't do this again. Not with her. I can't take losing her too. Hardison killed her."

"Indeed," Reuel agreed, "but the lesson isn't over yet."

"Take me home!" Nate screamed, "Dammit! I won't do this! I won't lose them like this! I would rather it be a fluke than anything else! I will not lose her by Hardison's hand! Take me back."

"You wanted to change their destiny to protect them," Reuel shrugged, "My hands are tied."

Then the angel disappeared with the light sea breeze.

"No!" Nate shouted in misery, "No, come back! Reuel, please come back! Please, I've learned my lesson! It's not my fault! It was never my fault!"

Still, no answer came. The mastermind was left alone with his grifter lying dead in his arms. Eliot was killing Hardison in the background. Sam was crumpled in Parker's arms, mourning his parents with tearful eyes.

"Please," Nate whimpered into the grifter's hair, "I know it's not my fault now. It was an accident. Please let me go home."

"Nate," Eliot called, his voice pitched low in concern. His hand was soft and soothing on his shoulder. He was shaking lightly to get his attention.

"No," Nate hissed.

He pulled his shoulder out of the hitter's grasp. Then he cuddled the grifter tighter to his chest. Tears were slowly slipping from his eyes no matter how hard he tried to stop them. He just wanted to bury himself inside the grifter's hair and disappear. He didn't want to be anywhere without her. He knew it was wrong, but he did the same thing with his son. Why couldn't he die with her too?

"Nate," Eliot kept calling, "Nate, wake up. Nate! Nate, it's only a bad dream."

The mastermind jumped at the voice. It had sounded so much like the dead grifter in his arms. But that was impossible. Her lips weren't moving and she wasn't breathing. She was dead and cold in his arms. She wasn't calling out his name. She never would again.

"Nate," the voice called again.

"Go away, Eliot!" Nate shouted at the voice, "Can't you see I'm mourning?"

"Nate, wake up!"

Nate jumped at the command. He rose up above the bar and nearly fell out of his seat. _Wait a minute,_ he thought. A look left showed nothing but two swinging bar doors and a bunch of empty tables. A look right confirmed that he was indeed in a bar surrounded by bottles and bottles of liquor. He looked for the exit and his eyes fell on the most beautiful sight in the world.

"Sophie!" He gasped pulling her into a hug and holding on tight. Then he pulled away so he could take in her beautiful appearance.

"I'm fine," she said unnecessarily. He could see simply by the way she was smiling that she was alive and well. Then he frowned.

"Your hair was up," he said.

He quickly moved her hair away from her face. A giant bruise was already starting to develop on her left cheek. Then he started to look at the rest of her appearance. Her dress was torn in at least three places other than the right strap. Her shoes were missing and her lips had a deep cut in it.

"Nothing happened," she said when their eyes met again.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Sophie, your dress is torn and you've got a giant bruise on your face," he said, "What do you mean nothing happened?"

"I took care of them before they could do anything," she replied with a bright smile. "Eliot taught me well."

"Where did the bruise come from?" He demanded bitterly.

"I gave it to her," a growly voice spoke up.

Guilt was obvious in the hitter's voice and stance. He was looking between the two of them like a kid who had done something wrong. He refused to meet either of their eyes. Instead his gaze was glued to his feet and he refused to move any closer to them. He was just hanging out by the door.

"I was turning a corner and she was in my blind spot," he explained.

"Eliot hit you?" Nate asked. He couldn't help being impressed and angry all at once. His hitter hit his grifter and she was still walking, talking and acting like nothing had happened.

"Well, mostly the man who had me up against the wall," Sophie shrugged, "But that's not important right now."

"Not important?" Nate scowled, "Sophie, Eliot hit-"

"Parker's awake," Sophie beamed.

Nate's whole world stopped at that simple statement. He grabbed the grifter's hand and pulled her outside with him. He refused to let her go as he rushed the two blocks to the hospital. He could hear the hitter's heavy steps behind them. They were all too excited to even think about anything but Parker.

The mastermind barged through the door in eager anticipation. There she was. The blonde was staring at the door with wide eyes and a happy smile. Hardison was right by her side with an impossibly bigger smile. His eyes fell towards the grifter and he sprang up from his chair. He swallowed her in a bear hug and cried into her shoulder.

"It's alright," Sophie cooed, "everything's going to be alright."

Nate smiled at the way the two were acting. They weren't fighting or deciding how to unravel each other. No, they were celebrating their thief and the fact that they were all alive. This was the family he knew and loved. The family he had missed so much. The mastermind turned towards the thief in the bed and smiled. He pulled her into a giant hug and held on tight. He ignored the slight prickly feeling in his eyes and just kept holding on.

"Am I dying?" Parker asked.

"No, Parker," Nate cried into her hair, "You're not dying. I'm just happy to see you awake."

"Did we get the bad guys?" She asked.

"Sophie blew them up," Eliot explained. He was standing on the other side of the hospital bed and still looking sheepish. "It's all taken care of."

"Then why does Sophie have a giant bruise on her face?" Hardison demanded in shock. He was still squeezing the grifter tight and looked like he wouldn't be letting go anytime soon.

Nate couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. Eliot's eyes had blown wide in fear of what he was supposed to say to that. Even Sophie was stuttering for an explanation. Parker was watching everything with avid fascination and Hardison was just trying to figure everything out. It had all been a dream.

The sound of a bell filled the air and Parker giggled at the noise.

"An angel just earned its wings," Sophie hummed along quietly. She had somehow managed to peel herself away from the hacker and snuck up right beside the mastermind.

The thief looked at the grifter in confusion. "I don't get it," she said.

"Well, Parker," the grifter explained, "There's an old wives tale that says every time a bell rings an angel earns its wings."

"Oh," Parker nodded, "That's stupid."

_Nice job Reuel_, Nate thought as he joined the others in laughter. Then he pulled the grifter into a bear hug and enjoyed the happy air. Things were looking up.

**A/N:** _Okay, now here is the big question. To Epilogue or not to epilogue. I was thinking about but I'm not too sure if it's going to work for this story or not. So, I decided to leave it up to you guys. Review with your answer. Thanks and thank you all so much for taking the time to read and review this story._


	20. Epilogue

**A/N:** _Well, the votes have it. Four obstained (were IDK about it,) two voted no and two voted yes. But gibbsrossi voted yes and since this gift is for gibbsrossi, the vote counts twice which means three votes yes. Thus, you have an epilogue. I hope you guys like it!_

"You want us to con a grifter?" Eliot gasped in complete and utter shock, "You do realize she's the best out there, right? That's next to impossible!"

"We did take out that legacy con artist person," Parker replied with a smile. She did enjoy a challenge and what better than to con Sophie Devereaux?

Well, sort of.

"It's not really conning," Nate explained, "We're just hiding something from her."

"Which is different from conning," Parker nodded teasingly.

Hardison oohed at her statement and gave her a fist bump in pride. Eliot kindly joked back the laughter at the two. The mastermind glared at them all.

"You're not helping," he growled.

"Well neither are you," Hardison pressed, "We've been to fifteen different jewelry stores already. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep that woman distracted? She can literally smell the different kind of stores on you."

"It's kind of cool actually," Parker giggled, "She had Hardison squirming for at least an hour before I could rescue him."

"It didn't help that you were in the air ducts giggling about it," the hacker growled playfully.

Nate rolled his eyes. Seriously, he was trying to find the perfect ring and they were flirting. If he didn't find something soon he was going to suggest they get married. It would be fun to watch them squirm at the idea. He put that plan on the back burner and started looking at the rings again.

"You're not going to find it, bro," Eliot giggled next to him. Yep, he was totally humiliated now. The hitter was actually giggling at his search.

"I'll find it," Nate argued.

"Nope," the hitter shook his head, "You're too much of a perfectionist. There's no such thing as the perfect ring, especially for Sophie Devereaux."

Nate swallowed at that. He couldn't help feeling the hitter was at least right about that. It was slowly driving him nuts that he couldn't find it. He had an unlimited budget and still managed to turn up empty at every store. He even went to Paris for a solid week without the grifter, much to her dismay and boy did she make him pay for it, and still he couldn't find the right one.

"We're getting close I can feel it," Nate replied. Okay, so apparently he was now in denial but whatever. He was going to get the right ring before he proposed. Sophie deserved the best after all.

"Are you sure you're ready for this kind of commitment?" Eliot demanded, his voice suddenly turning responsible. "I mean, thieves don't get married. It's a well-known weakness."

"Archie did it," Nate pointed out softly, "and Sophie's the best. We'll be fine. So stop worrying."

"I'm just trying to figure out why you haven't found the right one," Eliot shrugged in reply.

"Every ring I look at just doesn't have her saying yes," the mastermind replied.

He internally punched himself in the face for that. Then he mentally punched the hitter for doing that while he was distracted. He should have caught onto it sooner. Oh well, the damage was done. Time to control it.

"Oh so that's the problem," the hitter smirked, "You're afraid she's going to say no."

Nate laughed.

"Actually, no," he said, "I know she's going to say yes."

"Then why do you need the ring?" The hitter said, quirking an eyebrow elegantly.

"To tell her that I'm serious," Nate shrugged, "Besides she deserves the whole fairytale moment."

"Nate, I found it!" Parker cheered from across the room.

The mastermind and hitter turned towards her. Hardison was nodding his head and encouraging them to see the piece. He was chewing on yet another sandwich while chugging down orange soda. The thief was jumping up and down like a crazy person, cuz she was, and waving them over. Every eye in the store looked at them like they were heathens. Nate and Eliot turned towards each other, rolling their eyes at the pair. Then they smiled and joined them.

"You're right, Parker. That's the one!"


End file.
